Law 


An  extract  from  Mr* 
Law's  serious  call  to 
a  holy  life. 


;  : 


ryz^  :^  y^ 


rn  ^   / 


-d      -/ 


BV  4500  .L33  1803 ^^ 
Law,  William,  1686-1761. 
An  extract  from  Mr.  Law's 
Serious  call  to  a  holy  lif 


P^U^l^ifr^t,i^^^^r^<M.f^^L^ 


r-) 


^N 


EXTRACT 


PROlf 


Mr-  LAW'S  SERIOUS  CALL 


TO    A 


HOLY    LIFE 


By  the  Rev.  JOHN  WESLEY,  A.  M. 
Late  Fellow  of  Lincoln  College. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

PRINTED  BY    SOLOMON  W.  CONRAD, 

rOR   K2EKIEL   COOPER,  NO.    118^  NORTH    FOURTH 
STREET,    NEAR   THE   METHODIST  CHVRCH. 

1803. 


AW 

EXTRACT 

rnoM 


Mr.  LAW'S  SERIOUS  CALL 


TO    A 


HOLY   LIFE 


G  H  A  p.      I. 

Cancerning  the  Nature  and  Extent  of  Christian  Devotion, 

1.  J  AEVOTION  is  neither  private  nor  public  prayer  ; 

X-J  but  prnycrs,  vvluthev  private  or  public,  are 
particular  parts  or  inRances  of  devotion.  D;;votion  fig- 
nifi^s  a  life  devoted  to  God. 

He  th  refore  is  the  devout  man,  who  lives  no  longer 
to  his  own  will,  or  the  way  and  ipirit  of  the  world,  but 
to  the  l\;le  will  of  God  ;  who  conliders  God  in  every 
thing,  vvho.ferves  God  in  every  thing,  who  makes  all 
the  parts  of  his  common  life,  parts  of  piety,  by  doing 
every  thing  In  the  name  of  God,  and  under  fuch  rules 
as  are  conformable  to  his  glory. 

2.  *  We  readily  acknovvhcl^e,  that  God  alone  is  to 
be  the  riile  and  meafure  of  our  prayers  ;  that  in  them 
we  are  to  look  wholly  nnto  him,  and  a6l  wholly  for  him  ; 
that  we  are  only  to  pray  in  fuch  a  manner,  for  fuch 
things,  and  fuch  ends,  as  are  fuitable  to  his  glory. 

Now  let  any  one  but  find  ou:  the  reafon  why  he  is 
to  be  thus  ftndly  pious  in  his  prayers,  and  he  \^iil  find 
the  fame  as  ftrong  a  reafon  to  be  as  ftridly  piou«  in  all 
the  other  parts  of  his  life.     For  the-re  is  not  the  leall 


(  4  ) 

reafon  why  we  fhould  make  God  the  rule  and  meafure 
©f  our  prayers,  why  w,e  /ho¥l^  then  look  wholly  unto 
him,  and  pray  according  to  his  will  ;  but  'vt'hat  equally 
proves  it  necelTary  for  us  to  look  wholly  unto  God,  and 
make  him  the  rule  and  meafure  of  all  the  other  ad\ions 
of  our  life.  Were  it  not  our  ftri6l  duty  to  live  by  rea- 
fon,  to  devote  ajll  tl^e  adl^ons  of  eur  li^es  to  God  ;  wcj-c 
it  not  abfolutely  neceffary  to  walk  before  him  in  wif- 
dom  and  holinefs,  and  all  heavenly  converfation,  doing 
every  thing  in  his  name  and  for  his  glory,  there  would 
be  no  excellency  or  wifdom  in  the  moft  heavenly  prayers : 
ray,  fuch  prayers  Foj.ild  be  abfurditie^  ;  they  would  be 
like  prayers  for  wings,  when  it  was  no  part  of  our  duty 
to  fly. 

3.  As  fure  therefore  as  there  is  any  wifdom  in  pray- 
ing for  the  Spirit  of  God,  fo  fure  is  it,  that  we  are  to 
make  that  Spirit  the  rule  of  all  our  a£^ions  ;  as  fure  as 
it  is  our  duty  to  look  wholly  unto  God  in  our  prayers, 
fo  fure  is  it,  that  it  is  our  duty  to  live  wholly  unto  God 
in  .our  Uyes.  But  we  can  ujo  mpre  be  faid  to  live  untp 
God,  unlefs  we  live  unto  him  in  all  our  ordinary  actions, 
unlefs  he  be  the  rule  and  meafure  of  all  our  ways,  fhaji 
»we  can  be  faid  to  pray  unto  God,  unlefs  our  prayers 
look  wholly  jinto  him.  So  that  unreafonable  and  abfurd 
ways  of  life,  whether  in  lajbour  or  diveifion,  whether 
they  confume  .our  time  or  our  money,  are  like  unreafon- 
able ajid  abfurd  prayers,  and  are  a?  truly  an  offence  un.- 
to  God. 

4.  It  is  for  want  of  knowing,  or  at  leaft  confidering  this, 
thgit  we  fee  fuch  a  mixture  of  ridicule  in  the  lives  of  many 
people.  You  fee  them  ftrjft  as  to  fome  times  and  places 
of  devotion  ;  but  when  the  fervice  of  the  church  is  over, 
they  are  but  like  |ljofe  that  feldom  or  never  come  there. 
In  their  way  of  life,  their  manner  of  fpending  their  time 
and  money,  in  their  cares  and  fears,  in  their  ple?ifures  and 
indulgences,  in  their  labour  and  diveriiops,  they  are  like 
the  reft  of  the  world.  This  makes  the  loofe  part  of  the 
-world  generally  make  a  jeft  of  thofe  that  are  devout,  be- 
caufe  they  fee  their  devotion  goes  no  f^irther  than  theij- 
prayers,  and  that  they  live  no  more  unto  God,  till  the 

'  time  of  prayer  returns  a^ain  j  but  live  by  the  f^ijije  byj* 


(     5     ) 

moiir  and  fancy,  and  In  as  full  an  enjoyment  of  all  the 
follies  of  life  a«  other  people.  This  is  the  reafon  /hy 
they  are  the  jefl:  of  world'y  people  ;  not  bicaufe  they 
are  really  devoted  to  God,  hut  becaufe  tliey  ippear  to 
have  no  other  devotion,  but  that  of  cccafional   prayers. 

5.  *  Julius  is  very  fearful  of  mifling  prayers  :  all  the 
parifh  fuppofes  Julius  to  be  Tick,  if  he  is  not  at  church. 
But  if  you  was  to  afk  him,  Why  he  fpends  the  reft  of 
his  time  by  humour  or  chance  ?  Why  he  is  a  companion 
of  the  fillieft  people  in  their  mofl  filly  pleafures  ?  Why  he 
is  ready  for  every  impertinent  entertainment  and  diver- 
fion  ?  If  you  was  to  afk  him  why  there  is  no  amufement 
too  trifling  to  pleafe  him  ?  Why  he  gives  himfelf  up  to 
an  idle,  golllpping  converfation  ?  Why  he  lives  in  foolifli 
friendfliips  for  particular  perfons,  that  neither  want  nor 
deferve  any  particular  klndnefs  ?  If  you  afk  him  why  he 
never  puts  his  converfation,  his  time,  and  fortune,  under 
the  rules  of  religion,  Julius  has  no  more  to  fay  for 
himfelf  than  the  moft  dilbrderly  perfon.  Por  the  whole 
tenor  of  fciipture  lies  as  dire(flly  againfl:  fuch  a  life,  as 
againft  debauchery  and  intemperance.  He  that  lives  in 
fuch  a  courfe,  lives  no  more  according  to  the  reli  -^lon 
of  Jefus  Ghrifl,  than  he  that  lives  in  gluttony  and  in- 
temperance. 

If  a  man  was  to  tell  Julius,  that  there  was  no  occa- 
fjon  for  fo  much  conftancy  at  prayers,  and  that  he  might 
negledl  the  fervice  of  the  church,  as  the  generality  of 
people  do,  Julius  would  think  fuch  an  one  to  be  no 
Chriftian,  and  that  he  ought  to  avoid  his  company  : 
but  if  a  perfon  only  tell  him,  that  he  may  live  as  the 
generality  of  the  world  does,  that  he  may  enjoy  him- 
felf as  otheis  do,  that  he  may  fpend  his  time  and  money 
as  people  of  fafliion  do,  that  he  may  conform  to  the  fol- 
lies and  frailties  of  the  generality,  and  gratify  his  tem- 
per and  palTions  as  moft  peopl-e  do,  Julius  never  fulpefts 
that  man  to  want  a  Chnftian  fpirit,  or  that  he  is  doing 
the  devil's  work. 

6.  The  fhort  of  the  matter  is  this  :  Either  reafon 
and  religion  prcfcribe  rules  and  ends  to  all  the  ordina- 
ry adions  of  our  lives,  or  they  do  not:- if  they  dd, 
then  it  is  as  necefTarv  to  govei-n  all  our  a.rtions  by  thoie 

A  2 


(     6     ) 

yyles  as  It  is  jiecclTary  to  worHiip  God.  For  if  religion 
teaches  us  any  thing  concerning  eating  and  drinking, 
or  rpending  pur  time  and  monty  ;  if  it  teaches  us  how  we 
are  to  ufe  the  world  ;  if  it  tells  i;^  what  tempers  we  ave 
to  have  in  common  iife,  how  we  are  to  be  difpofed  to- 
"vvards  all  people,  how  we  are  to  behave  towards  the 
fick,  the  poor,  the  old  and  deftitute  ;  ifit  tells  us  whom 
we  are  to  treat  with  a  particular  love,  whom  we  are  to 
regard  with  a  particular  elleem  ;  if  it  tells  us  how  we 
are  to  treat  our  enemies,  and  how  we  are  to  deuy  our- 
felves,  he  muft  be  very  weak  that  can  think  thefe  pajts 
of  religion  are  net  to  be  obferved  with  as  much  exad- 
iiefs  as  any  doftrines  that  relate  to  prayers. 

7.  Our  bleffed  Saviour  and  his  apo(tles  are  wholly 
taken  up  in  doflrines  that  relate  to  common  life.  They 
call  us  to  differ  in  every  temper  and  way  of  life  from  the 
fpirit  and  way  of  the  world  •  to  renounce  ail  its  goods, 
to  fear  none  of  its  evils,  to  rcjedl  its  joys,  and  have  no 
value  for  its  happinefs  :  to  be  as  new-born  babes,  that  are 
born  into  a  new  ftate  of  things  ;  to  lire  as  pilgrims,  in 
fpiritual  watching,  in  holy  fear,  afpiring  after  another 
'life;  to  take  up  our  daily  crofs;  to  deny  ourftlves  ; 
to  profefs  the  blelTednefs  of  mourning  ;  to  feek  the  blef- 
fednefs  of  poverty  of  fpirit  ;  to  forfake  the  pride  and 
vanity  of  riches ;  to  take  no  thought  for  the  morrow  ; 
to  live  In  the  profoundeft  ftate  of  humility  ;  to  rejoice 
in  iufferings  ;  to  rejed  the  lull  of  the  flcfh,  the  lull  of 
the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life  ;  to  bear  injuries  ;  to  for- 
give and  bleis  our  enemies,  and  to  love  mankind  as 
God  loveth  them  ;  to  give  up  our  whole  hearts  and  af- 
fedions  to  God  ;  and  flrive  to  enter  through  the  ftrait 
gate  into  a  life  of  eternal  glory. 

8.  Thus  it  is  in  all  virtues  and  holy  tempers  ;  they 
are  not  c^rs  unlefs  they  be  the  virtues  and  tempers  of 
our  ordinary  life.  So  that  chriftianity  is  fo  far  from 
leaving  us  to  live  in  the  common  ways  of  life,  con- 
forming to  the  folly  ofcuftoms,  and  gratifying  the  pa f- 
fions  and  tempers  which  the  fpirit  of  the  worW  delights 
in  :  it  is  fo  far  from  indulging  us  in  any  of  thefe  things, 
that  ail  it$  virtues,  whicli  it  make*  neccffary  to  falvatif- 


(  ?  ) 

©D,  are  only  fo  many  -ways  of  living,   contrary  to  th? 
■world  in  all  the  common  aftionsof  our  lite. 

If  our  common  life  is  not  a  common  conrfe  of  humili- 
ty, felf-denial,  renunciation  ©f  the  world,  poverty  of  fpi- 
lit,  and  heavenly  affj;clion,  we  do  not  live  the  life  of 
Chriliians* 

9.  But  yet,  though  it  is  thus  plain,  that  this,  and 
this  alone,  is  chriflianity,  an  uniform,  open  and  vifible 
j3ra<Slice  of  all  thefe  virtues  ;  yet  it  is  as  plain,  that 
there  is  little  or  nothing  of  this  to  be  found,  even  a- 
mongft  the  better  fort  of  people.  You  ft-e  them  often 
at  church  ;  but  look  into  their  lives,  and  you  fee  them 
juft  the  fame  fort  of  people  as  others  are.  The  differ- 
ence that  you  find  betwixt  them  is  only  the  differenee 
of  their  natural  tempers.  They  have  the  fame  talle  of 
the  world,  the  fame  worldly  cares,  fears,  and  joys  ; 
they  have  the  fame  turn  of  mind,  are  equally  vain  in 
their  dcfjres.  You  fee  the  fame  vanity  of  drefs,  the  fame 
fclf-love  and  indulgence,  the  fame  foolifli  friendships  and 
groundlcfs  hatreds,  the  fame  levity  of  mind  and  trifling 
fpirits,  the  fame  idle  difpofitions,  and  vain  ways  of  fpend- 
ing  their  time  in  vifiting  and  converfation,  as  in  the  reft 
of  the  world,  that  make  no  pretences  to  devotion. 

10.  I  do  not  mean  this  comparifon  betwixt  people 
feemingly  good  and  profeffed  rakes,  but  betwixt  peo- 
ple of  fober  lives.  Let  us  take  an  inftance  in  two  mo- 
deft  women:  let  it  be  fuppofed  that  one  of  them  is  care- 
ful of  times  of  devotion,  through  a  fenfc  of  duty  ; 
and  thai  the  other  is  at  church  feldom  or  often,  jult  as 
it  happens.  Now  it  is  a  very  eafy  thing  to  fee  this 
difference  betwixt  thefe  perfons.  But,  can  you  find 
any  farther  diftcrence  betwixt  them  ?  Can  you  find, 
that  their  common  life  is  of  a  different  kind?  Are  not 
the  tempers,  and  cuftoms,  and  manners  of  the  one,  of  the 
fame  kind  as  of  the  other  ?  Do  they  live  as  if  they  be- 
longed to  different  world..,  had  different  views  in  their 
heads,  and  different  rules  and  meafures  of  all  their  ac- 
tions r  Have  they  not  the  fame  goods  and  evils  ?  Are 
they  noc  phafcd  and  difpleafed  in  the  fame  manner,  and 
for  the  fame  things  ?  Do  they  not  live  in  the  fame 
coMife   of  life  ?     Does  04ie  fetm  to  be  of  this   world, 


(     8     ) 

looking  at  the  thin^;s  that  are  temporal,  and  the  other 
to  be  oi  another  world,  looking  wholly  at  the  things 
that  aie  eternal  ?  Does  the  one  live  in  pleai\ire,  de- 
lighting Ijerfelf  in  fliew  or  drel's,  and  the  other  live  in 
leit'-denial,  renouncing  every  thing  that  looks  like  vani- 
ty, either  of  perion,  drefs,  or  carriage  ?  Does  the  one 
trifle  away  her  time  ?  And  does  the  other  ftudy  all  the 
arts  of  improving  it,  living  in  prayer  and  watching-, 
and  inch  good  works  as  may  make  all  her  time  turn  to 
licr  advantage,  and  be  placed  to  her  account  at  the  lall 
dzf  ?  Is  the  one  carelefs  of  expenfe,  and  glad  to  a- 
dorn  herfelf  with  every  coflly  ornament  of  drefs  ?  And 
does  the  other  confider  her  fortune  as  a  talent  given  her 
by  Gcd,  which  is  to  be  improved  religioufly,  and  no 
more  to  be  fpent  in  vain  and  needlefs  ornaments  than 
it  is  to  be  buried  in  the  earth  ? 

Where  muft  you  look,  to  find  one  perfon  of  religi- 
on differing  in  this  manner  from  another  that  has  none  ? 
And  yet  if  they  do  not  differ  in  thefe  things,  can  it  with 
any  fenfe  be  faid,  the  one  is  a  good  Chriftian,  and  the 
other  not  ? 

I  I.  Take  another  inftance  among  the  men.  Leo  has 
a  great  deal  of  good  nature,  has  kept  what  they  call 
g(i^d  company;  hates  every  thing  that  is  falfe  and  bafe, 
is  very  generons  to  his  friends  ;  but  has  concerned  him- 
felt"  fo  little  with  religion,  that  he  hardly  knows  the 
difference  betwixt  a  Jew  and  aChriftian. 

Eufebius,  on  the  other  hand,  has  had  early  imprefH- 
ons  of  religion,  and  buys  books  of  devotion.  He  can 
talk  of  all  the  feafls  and  fafls  of  the  church,  and 
knows  the  names  of  moft  men  that  have  been  eminent 
for  piety.  You  never  hear  him  fwear,  and  when  he 
talks  of  religion,  he  talks  of  it  as  a  matter  of  great 
concern. 

Here  you  fee,  that  one  perfon  has  religion  enough, 
to  be  reckoned  a  pious  Chriflian  ;  and  the  other  i«  fo  far 
from  all  appearance  of  religion,  that  he  may  fairly  be 
reckoned  a  Heathen.  And  yet,  if  yoa  look  into  their 
common  life,  if  you  examine  their  ruling  tempers  in  the 
greateil  articles  of  life,  you  will  find  the  leafl  diiference 
imaginable.     Confider  tfeem  with  regard  to  the  ufe  of 


<     9     ) 

tlie  world,  becaufe  that  is  what  every  body  can  fee. 
Now,  to  have  right  notions  and  tempers  with  regard  to 
the  world,  is  as  elTential  to  religion,  as  to  have  right 
notions  of  God.  And  it  is  as  poflible  for  a  man  to 
worfhip  a  jcro^codile,  and  yet  be  9  pious  man,  as  to  have 
his  affedlions  fet  upon  this  world,  and  yet  be  9,  good 
Chriftian. 

But  now,  if  you  copfider  Leo  ^ncj  Eufebius  in  this  re- 
fpeft,  you  will  fipd  them  ^xa.dly  ^like  ;  feeking,  ufing, 
and  enjoying  all  that  can  be  got  ip  tljis  world,  in  th« 
fame  manner.  You  will  find  riches^  profperity,  pleafures, 
find  honour,  are  juft  as  much  ;he  happinefs  of  Kufebius 
as  they  are  of  Leo.  And  yet,  If  chriflianity  has  not 
changed  a  man's  temper,  ^vith  relation  to  thefe  things, 
what  has  it  done  for  him  ? 

12.  Every  one  capable  of  reflecflion,  mnft  have  ob» 
ferv^dj  that  this  is  generally  jtlje  ftate,  even  of  devout 
people,  whether  men  or  woijjei).  You  Hiay  fee  their^ 
different  from  other  people,  as  %o  times  and  places  of 
prayer,  but  like  the  reft  of  the  world  in  all  the  other 
p;arts  of  their  lives;  that  is,  adding  Chriftian  devotion 
to  an  Heafhen  life.  I  have  the  authority  of  our  ble{re4 
Saviour  for  this  remark,  where  he  fays,  Take  no  thought^ 
sayings  ivhat  shall  nve  ^aft  or  'ivhat  shall  ipe  drinks  or 
where%vithal  shall  we  be  clothed?  Fpr  qfter  all  these  things 
do  the  Gentiles  seek.  But  if  to  be  thus  affeded  eyen  witlj 
the  neceiTary  things  of  this  life,  fliews  that  we  are  not 
of  a  ChrilHan  fpirit,  but  an  I^eajhen  ;  furely,  to  enjoy 
;he  vanity  and  folly  of  the  world  as  tlxey  did,  to  be  like 
them  in  the  main  teipper^  of  our  lives,  in  fenfual  plea- 
fures and  diverfions,  in  the  vanity  of  drefs,  the  love  of 
fliew  and  greatnefs,  or  any  ol:her  gaudy  diftindions  of 
fortune,  is  a  much  greater  fign  of  an  heathen  temper  j 
and  confequently,  they  who  add  devotion  to  fuch  a  life, 
mull  be  faid  to  pray  a^  Cbriftian?  \i\i\.  Jjvc  a^  heathens. 


(    10    ) 

CHAP.     II. 

jIn  Enquiry  into  the  Reason  why  the  gsnerality  of  Chris- 
tians  fall  so  short  of  the  Holiness  and  Devotion  of 
Christianity* 

1.  TT  may  now  be  reafonably  enquired,  how  it  is,  that 

JL  the  lives,  even  of  the  better  fort  of  people,  are  thus 
flrangely  contrary  to  the  principles  of  chriftianity  ? 

But  before  I  give  a  diretl  anfwer,  I  defire  it  may  be 
enquired,  how  it  is,  th^t  swearing  is  fo  common  amongft 
Chrifliiins  ?  It  is  indeed  yet  not  fo  common  amongfl 
women,  as  amongfl:  men  ;  but  among  men  this  fin  is  fo 
common,  that  perhaps  there  are  more  than  two  in  three 
that  are  guihy  of  it  through  the  whole  courfe  of  their 
lives  ;  fwearing  more  or  lefs,  juft  as  it  happens  ;  fome 
conftantly,  others  only  now  and  then.  Now  I  alk  how 
comes  it,  that  two  in  three  of  the  men  are  guilty  of  fo 
grofs  a  fin  as  this  is  ?  There  is  neither  ignorance  nor 
human  infirmity  to  plead  for  it  :  it  is  againfl  an  exprefs 
commandment,  and  the  mod  plain  dotlrine  of  our  blef- 
fed  Saviour. 

Do  but  find  the  reafon  why  the  generality  of  men 
live  in  this  notorious  vice,  and  you  will  have  found  the 
reafon,  why  the  generality  even  of  the  better  fort  of 
people,  live  fo   contrary  to  chrifl:ianity. 

2.  *  Now  the  reafon  of  common  fwearing  is  this  ;  it 
is  becaufe  men  have  not  fo  much  as  the  intention  to  please 
God  in  all  their  actions.  For,  let  a  man  but  have  fo 
much  piety  as  to  ijitend  to  please  God  in  all  the  actions  of 
his  life^  as  the  happiest  and  best  thing  in  the  worlds  and 
then  he  will  never  fwear  more.  It  will  be  as  impofli- 
ble  for  him  to  fwear,  whilfl:  he  feels  this  intention  with- 
in himfelf,  as  it  is  impoflible  for  a  man  -that  intends  to 
pleafe  his  prince,  to  go  up  and  abufe  him  to  his  face. 

3.  It  is  but  a  fmall  part  of  piety  to  have  fuch  an  in- 
tention  as  this  ;  and  he  has  no  reafon  to  look  upon  him- 
felf as  a  difciple  of  Chrift,  who  is  not  thus  far  advanced. 
And  yet  it  is  purely  for  want  of  this  degree  of  piety, 
that  you  fee  fuch  a  mixture  of  fui  and  folly  in  the  lives 


(  n  ) 

even  of  the  better  fort  of  people.  It  is  for  want  of  this 
intention,  that  you  fee  men  that  profcfs  religion,  yet  live 
in  (wearing  and  fenfuality  ;  that  you  fee  dergymcn  given 
to  pride  and  covetoufnefs,  and  worldly  enjoymewts.  It 
IS  tor  want  of  this  intentloii,  that  you  fee  women  that 
profefs  devotion,  yet  living  in  all  the  vanity  and  folly 
ot  drc  s,  and  waging  their  time  in  idlenefs  and  pleafures, 
m  all  luch  inftances  as  their  eftates  will  reach.  For, 
let  but  a  woman  feel  her  heart  full  of  this  intention,  and 
Ihe  willfina  it  as  impoflible  to  patch  or  paint,  as  to 
curfe  or  fwear  ;  fhe  will  no  more  defire  to  fliine  at  balls 
and  affembhes,  or  make  a  figure  amonga  thofe  that  are 
jnofl  finely  drelTed,  than  flie  will  defire  to  dance  upon 
a  rope  to  pleafe  fpedlators  :  fhe  will  know,  that  the  one 
IS  as  tar  trom  the  wifdom  and  excellency  of  the  Ghriftian 
ipirit  as  the  other. 

4.  It  was  this  general  intention  that  made  the  primitive 
Chriftians  iuch  eminent  inOances  of  piety.  And  if  you 
will  here  ftop,  and  afk  you.felf,  why  you  are  not  as 
pious  as  the  primitive  ChrilHans  w.rc,  your  own  heart 
>vi  I  tell  you,  It  IS  neither  through  ignorance  nor  inability, 
but  purely  becaufe  you  never  thoroughly  inteiKled  it! 
You  oblerve  the  fame  Sunday-worfhip  that  they  did  ;  ai«l 
you  ai^  Ana  m  it,  becaufe  it  is  your  full  intention  Jo  be 
10,  And  when  you  as  fully  intend  to  be  like  them  in 
their  common  life  ;  when  you  intend  to  pJeafe  God  in 
all  your  adions,  you  will  fi„d  it  as  poibble,  as  to  be 
ftriaiy  exaa  in  the  fervice  of  the  church.  And  when  you 
have  this  tntention  to  please  God  in  all  your  actions,  as  \he 
happiest  and  best  thing  in  the  world,  you  will  find  in  you 
as  great  an  averfion  to  any  thing  that  is  vain  and  im- 
pertinent  in  common  life,  whether  of  bufmefs  or  plea, 
Tn":  '^  y°"  "°^  have  to  any    thing  that   is  prophane. 

eTtl"er"nfr       T  ^''"  ^"^^    "-^   ^^^^"^  '^    ^"^    tooli(h\.ay 
e  thei  of  fpending  your  time,     or  your  fortune,  as  you 
are  now  fearful  of  neglea.ng  the  public  worOiip.       ^ 
5.   Now    who  that  wants  this  general  intention,    can 

Chriftians,    it    would    change    the    whole    face    of  thf 

vifible,  as  buying  and  felling,  or  any  trade  in  life. 


(   i^  > 

'*  Let  ^  iler^-yi^an  Ve  thiis  pious,  and  fid  fvill  c6nverfe 
as  if  he  had  been  brotight  up  by  an  apoftle.  He  will 
tio  more  think  and  talk  of  noble  preferment,  than  of  noble 
bating,  or  a  glorious  chariots  He  will  no  mOre  com- 
plain of  the  frowns  of  the  v/orld,  or  a  fmall  cure,  or  the 
tvantof  a  patron,  than  he  will  complain  of  a  laced  coat, 
Or  a  running-horfe.  Let  him  but  intend  to  please  God  in 
all  his  actions^  as  the  happiest  and  best  thing  in  the  nvorld, 
jifid  then  he  will  know,  that  there  is  nothing  noble  in  a, 
dergyitien,  but  burning  Zeal  for  the  falvation  of  fouls  ; 
tiot  any  thing  poor  in  his  profeffion,  but  idlenefs  and 
a  Worldly  fpirit.  Again,  let  a  tradefman  but  have  this  in- 
tention, and  it  will  make  him  a  faint  in  his  (hop  ;  his 
every  day  bufinefs  will  be  a  courfe  of  wife  and  reafon- 
sfble  a£lions,  made  holy  to  God,  by  being  done  in  obe- 
dience to  his  will  and  pleafure.  He  will  buy  and  fell, 
and  labour  and  travel,  becaufe  by  fo  doing  he  can  do 
fome  good  to  himfelf  and  others  ;  but  then,  as  nothing 
tan  pleafe  God  but  what  is  wife,  and  reafonable,  and 
lioly  ;  fo  he  will  neither  buy  nor  fell,  nor  labour  in  anjf 
Inanner,  but  fuch  as  is  wife,  and  reafonable,  and  holy. 
He  will  therefore  confider,  not  what  arts,  or  methods, 
'Will  make  him  richer  and  greater  than  his  brethren,  or 
femove  him  from  a  fliop  to  a  life  of  (late  and  pleafare  ; 
but  he  will  confider  what  arts,  what  methods,  can 
Jtiake  worldly  bufinefs  moft  acceptable  to  God,  and 
fhake  a  life  of  trade  a  life  of  holinefs,  devotion,  and 
iJiety.  This  will^  be  the  temper  and  fpirit  of  ever/ 
tradefrhan  ;  he  cannot  flop  ftiort  of  thefe  degrees  of  pie- 
ty, whenever  it  is  his  intention  to  please  Ood  in  all  his 
actions^  as  the  best  and  happiest  thing  in  the  ivorld, 

6.  Again,  let  the  Gentleman  of  fortune  but  have  thi* 
Intention,  and  it  will  carry  hirti  from  every  appearance 
tf  evil,  to  every  inftance  of  piety  and  goodnefs. 

He  cannot  live  by  chance,  or  as  humour  or  fancy  car- 
ries him,  becaufe  he  knows  that  nothing  can  pleafe  God 
but  a  wife  and  regular  courfe  of  life.  He  cannot  liva 
in  idlenefs  and  indulgence,  in  fports  and  gaming,  in  vain 
expenfes  and  high  living,  becaufe  thefe  things  cannot 
be  turned  into  means  of  holinefs,  or  ftiade  fo  manjr  psuts 
of  a  wife  and  religious  life. 


(     13     ) 

*  As  he  tluis  removes  from  all  appearance  of  ev'iU 
fo  he  afpires  after  every  inftance  of  goodnefs.  He  does 
not  afk  what  is  allowable  and  pardonable,  but  what  is 
commendable  and  praife-wortliy.  He  does  not  afk  whe- 
ther God  will  forgive  the  folly  of  our  lives,  the  madnefi 
of  our  pleafures,  the  vanity  of  our  expenfes,  and  the 
x:arek'fs  confumption  of  our  time;  but  he  afks  whether 
Cod  is  pleafed  with  thefe  things  ;  or  whether  thefe  are 
the  appointed  ways  of  gaining  his  favour.  He  does  not 
inquire,  whether  it  be  pardonable  to  hoard  up  money, 
to  adorn  ourfelves  with  diamonds,  and  gild  our  cha- 
riots, whilft  the  widow  and  the  orphan,  the  fick  and  the 
prifoner,  want  to  be  relieved  :  but  he  afks  wlyjther  God 
has  required  thefe  things  at  our  hands  ;  whether  we  fliall 
be  called  to  account  at  the  lafl  day  for  the  negled  of 
them  ?  Becaufe  it  is  not  his  intent  to  live  in  fuch  ways 
as  God  may  perhaps  pardon,  but  in  fuch  as  we  know 
God  will  infallibly  reward. 

He  will  not  therefore  look  at  the  lives  of  Chriftians, 
to  learn  how  he  ought  to  fpend  his  eftate,  but  he  will 
look  into  the  fcripture,  and  make  every  dodlrine,  para- 
ble, or  inilrudlion  that  relates  to  rich  men,  a  law  to  him- 
felf  in  the  ufe  of  it. 

He  will  have  but  one  rule  for  charity,  and  that  will 
be,  to  ipend  all  that  he  can  that  way  ;  becaufe  the 
Judge  of  quick  and  dead  hath  faid,  that  all  that  is  fo 
given,  is  given  to  him. 

7.  Let  not  any  one  lock  upon  this  as  an  imaginary 
defcription-,  that  looks  fine  in  the  notion;  but  cannot 
be  put  in  pradlice.  For  it  is  fo  far  from  being  imprac- 
ticable, that  it  has  been  pradifed  by  great  numbers  of 
Chriftians  in  former  ages,  who  were  glad  to  turn  their 
•whole  ellates  into  a  conftant  courfe  of  charity.  And  it 
is  fo  far  from  being  ihipolfible  now,  that  if  we  can  find 
any  Chriftians  that  fincerely  intend  to  please  God  in  all 
their  actions  as  the  best  and  happiest  thing  in  the  nvorld^ 
■whether  they  be  ycung  or  old,  fingle  or  married,  meti 
or  women,  it  vvili  be  impoflible  for  them  to  do  other- 
wife.  This  one  principle  will  infallibly  carry  them  to 
this,  and  they  will  find  themfelves  unable  to  Hop  fhort 
of  it. 

B 


(     14     ) 

For  how  is  it  poflible  for  a  man  tliat  intends  to  pleafc 
God  in  the  life  of  his  money,  becaufe  he  judges  it  to  be 
his  greatcil  happinefs,  to  bury  his  money  in  necdlefs  im- 
pertinent fiTicry,  in  covering  himfelf  or  his  horfes  with 
gold,  whiiil  there  are  any  works  of  piety  or  charity  to 
be  done  with  it,  or  any  ways  of  fpending  it  well  ? 

8.  I  have  chofen  to  explain  this  matter,  by  appealing 
to  this  intention,  becaufe  it  makes  the  cafe  fo  plain,  and 
becaufe  every  one  may  fee  it  in  the  clearefl;  light,  and 
feel  it  in  the  Arongefi:  manner,  only  by  looking  into  his 
own  heart.  For  it  is  as  eafy  for  every  perfon  to  know, 
whether  he  intends  to  pleafe  God  in  all  his  anions,  as 
for  any  fervant  to  know,  whether  this  be  his  intention 
towards  his  mafter.  Every  one  can  as  eafily  tell  how  he 
lays  out  his  money,  and  whether  he  confiders  how  to 
pleafe  God  in  it,  as  he  can  tell  where  his  eftate  is,  and 
whether  it  be  in  money  or  in  land.  So  that  here  is  no 
plea  left  for  ignorance  or  frailty,  as  to  this  matter:  eve- 
ry body  is  in  the  light^  and  every  body  has  power.  And 
no  one  can  fail,  but  he  that  is  not  fo  much  a  Ghriftian, 
as  to  intend  to  pleafe  God  in  the  ufe  of  his  eftate. 

9.  You  fee  two  pcrfons,  one  is  regular  in  public  and 
private  prayer,  the  other  is  not.  Now  the  rsafon  of 
this  difference  is  not  this,  that  one  has  ftrength  to  ob- 
ferve  prayer,  and  the  other  has  not ;  but  the  reafon  is 
this,  that  one  intends  to  pleafe  God  in  the  duties  of  de^. 
votion,  and  the  other  has  no  intention  about  it.  The 
cafe  is  the  fame  in  the  right  or  wrong  ufe  of  our  time 
^nd  money.  You  fee  one  perfon  throwing  away  his 
time  in  fleep  and  idlenefs,  in  vifiting  and  diverfions,  and 
his  money  in  the  mrft  vain  and  unreafonable  expenfes. 
You  fee  another  careful  of  every  day,  dividing  his  hours 
by  rules  of  reafon  and  religion,  and  fpending  all  his  mo- 
ney in  works  of  charity.  Now  the  difterence  is  not 
owing  to  this,  that  one  has  flrcngth  to  do  thus,  and 
the  other  has  not ;  but  to  this,  that  one  intends  to  pleafe 
God  in  the  right  ufe  of  all  his  time  and  all  his  money,  and 
the  other  has  no  intention  about  it. 

10.  Hera  therefore  let  us  judge  ourfelves  fincerely  ; 
let  us  not  vainly  content  ourfelves  with  the  common 
diforders  of  our  lives,  the  vanity  of  our   expenfes,  the 


(      15     ) 

fo'lv  of  onr  dlvfirfions,  the  idlenefs  of  our  lives,  and  the 
wafting  of  our  time,  fancying  that  thefe  are  fuc.h  imper- 
ftClions  as  we  fall  into  through  the  unavoidable  we;ik- 
ncfs  of  our  natures  ;  but  let  us  be  ?{Tiired  that  thefe  flif- 
orders  of  our  comnH)n  life  are  owing  to  this,  that  we 
have  not  fo  much  chriftianity  as  to  intend  to  pleafe 
God  in  all  our  adions,  as  the  beft  and  happiefl  thing 
in  the  world.  So  that  we  muft:  not  look  upon  ourfelves 
in  a  ftate  of  common  imperfedlion,  but  in  fuch  a  ftate 
as  wants  the  firft:  and  moft  fundamental  principle  of  chrif- 
tianity,  viz.  an  intention  to  please  God  in  all  our  actions, 

1  I.  And  if  any  one  was  to  aik  hinifelf  how  it  comes 
to  pafs,  that  there  arc  any  degrees  of  fobriety  which  he 
neglects,  any  method  of  charity,  Which  he  does  not  fol- 
low, any  rules  of  redeeminp;  time  which  he  does  not  ob- 
ferve,  his  own  heart  will  ttll  him,  that  it  is  becaufe  he 
revcr  intended  to  be  fo  exacl  in  thofe  duties.  For  when- 
ever we  fully  in:end  it,  it  is  as  pofiibie  to  conform  to 
all  this  leguinrity  of  life,  as  it  is  pollible  for  a  man  to 
obferve  times  of  prayer. 

So  that  the  fault  does  not  lie  here,  that  we  defire  to 
be  good  and  perfed,  but  through  the  weaknefs  of  our 
nature  fall  fliort  of  it  ;  but  w^  have  not  piety  enough 
to  intend  to  be  as  good  as  we  can,  or  to  pleafe  God  in 
all  ouracliions.  This  we  fee  is  plainly  the  cafe  of  him 
that  fpends  his  tirnd'  in  fports,  when  he  fhould  be  at 
church  ;  it  is  not  his  want  of  power,  but  his  want  of 
intention,  or  defire  to  be  there. 

1  2.  And  the  cafe  is  plainly  the  fame  in  every  othec 
folly  of  human  life.  She  that  fpends  her  time  and  mo- 
}iey  in  the  unreafonable  ways  andfaftiions  of  the  world, 
does  not  do  fo,  becaufe  (lie  wants  power  to  be  wife  and 
religious  in  the  management  of  her  time  and  money, 
hut  becaufe  /he  has  no  intention  or  defire  of  being  fo. 
When  fhe  feals  this  intention,  (lie  Avill  find  it  as  poSible 
to  adi  up  to  it,  as  to  be  ftrictly  fober  and  chafle,  becaufe 
it  is  her  care  and  defire  to  be  fo. 

I  3.  This  dodlrine  does  not  fuppofe,  that  v/e  have  no 
need  of  divine  grace,  or  that  it  is  in  our  own  power  to. 
make  ourfelves  perfect.  It  only  fuppofes,  that  through 
tile  w-uuoi  uiincere  intention  of  pleafing  God  in  all  our 


(     16     ) 

aAlons,  we  fall  into  fuch  Irregularities  of  life,  as  by  the 
ordinary  means  of  grace  we  fhoiild  have  power  to  avoid. 
And  that  we  have  not  that  perfed\ion,  which  our  pre- 
fent  flate  of  grace  makes  us  capable  of,  becaufe  we  do 
not  fo  much  as  intend  to  have  it. 

It  only  teaches  us,  that  the  reafon  why  you  fee  no 
real  fclf-denial,  no  eminent  charity,  no  profound  humi- 
lity, no  heavenly  afFedlion,  no  true  contempt  of  the 
■world,  no  ChrilHan  mecknefs,  no  fincere  zeal,  no  emi- 
nent piety  in  the  common  lives  of  Chriflians,  is  this,  be«j 
caufe  they  do  not  fo  much  as  intend  to  be  cxad  and  exem- 
plary m  thefe  virtues. 


CHAP.     III. 

Of  the  great  Danger  and  Folly  of  not  intending  to  he  as 
eminent  as  ive  can^  in  the  Practice  of  all  Christian  Virtues, 

1.      \   LTHOUGH  the   goodnefs   of  God,    and   his 

JLJL  rich  mercy  in  Chrift  Jefus,  are  a  fufficient  af- 
furance  to  us,  that  he  will  be  merciful  to  aur  unavoid- 
able weaknefles,  that  is,  to  fuch  failings  as  are  the  ef- 
fect of  ignorance  or  furprife  ;  yet  we  have  no  reafon  to  ex- 
pert the  fame  mercy  towards  thofe  fins  which  we  live 
in,  through  a  want  of  intention  to  avoid  them. 

For  inftance,  a  common  fwearcr,  who  dies  in  that  guilt, 
feems  to  have  no  title  to  the  Divine  mercy  ;  becaufe 
he  can  no  more  plead  any  weaknefs  in  his  excufe,  than 
the  man  that  hid  his  talent  in  the  earth,  could  plead 
his  waut  of  ftrength  to  keep  it  out  of  the  earth. 

2.  But  if  this  be  right  reafoning  in  the  cafe  of  a  com- 
mon fwearer,  that  his  fin  is  not  to  be  reckoned  a  pardon- 
able frailty,  becaufe  he  has  no  weaknefs  to  plead  in  its 
excufe  ;  why  do  not  we  as  much  condemn  every  other 
error  of  life,  that  has  no  more  weaknefs  to  plead  in  its 
excufe  than  common  fwearing  ? 

For  if  this  be  fo  bad,  becaufe  it  might  be  avoided,  if 
we  did  but  fincerely  intend  it,  muft  not  all  other  erro- 
neous ways  ©f  life  be  guilty,  if  wc  live   in.  them,  not 


(    ir   1 

t1iroiip;li  weaknefs  and  inability,  but  becaufe  we  ntvtv 
inircrely  intended  to  avdiJ  them?  For  inftante,  ycu  • 
perhaps  have  made  no  progrcix  in  the  mollt  important 
chriftian  virtues,  in  humility  and  charity.  Now,  if 
your  failure  in  thefe  is  owing  t-o  your  want  of  intention 
of  performing  then^i  in  any  true  degree,  have  you  not  a:i 
little  to  plead  for  yourfelf  ?  And  are  you  not  as  much 
without  all  excufe  as  the  common  fwearer  ? 

3.  Why  therefore  do  not  you  prefs  thefe  things  home 
upon  your  confcience  ?  Why  do  you  not  think  it  as  dan- 
gerous for  you  to  live  in  fuch  defers  as  are  in  your 
power  to  amend,  as  it  is  dangerous  for  a  common  fwear- 
er  to  live  in  the  breach  of  that  duty,  which  it  is  in  his 
power  to  obferve  ?  Is  not  want  of  a  fmcere  intention,  as 
blameable  in  one  cafe  as  another  ? 

"You,  it  may  be,  are  as  far  from  chrlQlan  perfedion 
as  the  common  fwearer  is  from  keeping  the  third  com- 
mandment.  Are  you  not  therefore  as  much  condemned 
by  the  dodlrines  of  the  gofpel,  as  the  fwearer  is  by  the 
third  commandment  ? 

You  perliaps  will  fay,  that  all  people  fall  fliort  of  the 
perfedion  of  the  gofprl.  But  this  is  nothing  to  the  pur- 
pcfe  :  for  the  quelHon  is  not,  whether  gofpel-perfec- 
tion  can  be  fully  attained  ;  but  whether  you  come  as 
near  it  as  a  fincere  intention  and  careful  diligence  can 
carry  you  ?  Whether  you  arc  not  in  a  much  lower  ftate 
than  you  might  be.  if  you  bncerely  intended  to  advance 
yourfelf  in  all  chriftian  virtues  ? 

4.  If  your  defcdls  in  piety,  humility,  and  charity,  are 
owing  to  your  want  of  fincere  intention  to  be  as  eminent 
as  you  can  in  thefe  virtues,  then  you  leave  yourfelf  as 
much  without  excufe,  as  he  that  lives  in  the  fin  of  fwear- 
ing,  through  the  want  of  a  fincere  intention  to  depart 
from  it. 

The  falvatlon  of  our  fouls  is  fet  forth  in  fcripture  as 
a  thing  of  difficulty,  that  requires  all  our  diligence,  that 
is  U>  be  nvorked  out  'with  fear  and  trembling. 

We  are  told,  strait  is  the  gate,  and  narrow  is  the  roay 

that  leadeth  unto  life  and  few  there  be  that  find  it.   That 

many  are  caUed^  but  few  are  chosen.   And  that  many  will 

mifo  of   their  falvation,  who   {eem  to  have  taken  feme 

B  2 


(      18     ) 

pains  to  obt'riin  it.  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  ; 
for  7nany,  I  say  unto  you,  toill  seek  to  enter  in,  and  shall 
not  be  ahle, 

*Here  our  bleiTed  Lord  commancls  us  to  strive  to  en- 
ter in,  becaufe  many  will  fail,  who  only  seek  to  enter. 
By  which  we  are  plainly  taught,  that  rtligion  is  a  ftate 
of  labour  and  driving,  and  that  many  will  fail  of  their 
falvation  ;  not  becaufe  they  took  no  pains  or  care  about 
it,  but  becaufe  they  did  not  take  care  and  pains^nough  ; 
they  only  fought,  but  did  not  ftrive  to  enter  in. 

Every  Chriftian  therefore  fliould  as  well  examine  his 
life  by  thefe  dcdlrines,  is  by  the  commandments  :  for 
thefe  dodrines  are  as  plain  marks  of  our  condition  as 
the  commandments  are. 

For  if  falvation  is  only  given  to  thofe  who  Arive  for 
it,  then  it  is  as  reafonable  for  me  to  confider,  whether 
my  courfe  of  lite  be  a  courfe  of  driving  to  obtain  it,  as 
to  confider  whether  I  am  keeping  any  of  the  command- 
ments. 

5.  If  my  religion  is  only  a  formal  compliance  with 
thofe  modes  of  worfhip  that  arc  in  fafhion  where  I  live, 
if  it  cofts  me  no  pains  or  trouble,  if  it  lays  me  under  no 
rules  and  reftraints,  if  I  have  no  careful  thoughts  about 
it,  is  it  not  great  weaknefs  to  think  that  I  am  striving 
to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  ? 

If  I  am  feeking  every  thing  that  can  delight  my  fen- 
fes,  and  regale  my  appetites,  fpending  my  time  and 
fortune  in  pleafures,  in  diverfions,  and  worldly  enjoy- 
ments ;  a  liranger  to  watchings,  fadings,  prayers,  and 
mortifications,  how  can  it  be  faid,  that  I  am  working 
out  my  salvation  nvithfear  and  trembling  ? 

If  I  ufe  the  world  and  worldly  enjoyments,  as  the  ge- 
nerality of  people  do,  and  in  all  ages  have  done,  why 
fhould  I  think  that  I  am  amongft  thofe  few,  who  are 
walking  in  the  narrow  way  to  heaven  ? 

*  And  yet,  if  the  way  is  narrow,  if  none  can  walk 
in  it  but  thofe  that  ftrive,  is  it  not  as  nec;ffary  for  me 
to  confider,  whether  the  way  I  am  in  be  narrow  enough, 
or  the  labour  I  take  be  a  fufficient  driving,  as  to  coniider 
■whether  I  fufficiently  obferve  the  fecond  or  third  com- 
mandment I 


(     19    ) 

6.  The  meafure  of  our  love  to  God  feems  In  juflice 
to  he  the  meafure  of  our  love  of  every  virtue.  We  arc 
to  lovs  and  pradlHe  it  with  all  our  hearty  with  all  our 
sovl^  nvith  all  our  mind^  and  with  all  our  strength.  And 
•when  -we  ceafc  to  live  with  this  regard  to  virtue,  we  live 
below  our  nature,  and  inftead  of  being  able  to  plead  our 
infirmities,  we  ftand  chargeable  with  wilful   negligence. 

It  is  for  this  reafon  that  we  are  exho'-ted  to  work  out 
our  falvation  with  yVor  and  trembling  ;  bircauie  unlets 
our  heart  and  pafTions  are  eagerly  bent  upon  the  work  of 
our  falvation,  unlefs  holy  fears  animate  our  endeavours, 
and  keep  our  confciences  tender  about  every  part  of  our 
duty,  conHantly  examining  how  we  live,  and  how  fit 
■we  are  to  die,  we  (hall  in  all  probability  fit  down  in 
fuch  a  courfc  of  life,  as  will  never  carry  us  to  the  re- 
wards of  heaven. 

And  he  that  confiders,  that  a  jufl:  God  can  only  make 
fuch  allowances  as  are  fuitable  to  his  juflice,  that  our 
•works  are  all  to  be  examined  by  fire,  will  find  fear  and 
trembling  are  proper  tempers  for  thofe  that  are  drawing 
near  to  fo  great  a  trial. 

Now  this  is  not  intended  to  poflefs  people's  minds 
with  a  fcrupulous  anxiety  ;  but  to  fill  them  with  ajuft 
fear  of  living  in  the  negledl  of  fuch  virtues  as  they  will 
want  at  the  day  ol"  judgment. 

It  is  only  dciiring  them  to  be  fo  apprehenfive  of  their 
ftate,  fo  earned  after  higher  degrees  of  piety,  and  fo 
fearful  of  falling  fliort  of  happinefs,  as  the  great  apof- 
tle  St.  Paul  was,  when  he  thus  wrote  to  the  Philippians. 

Not  as  though  I  had  already  attained^  either  were  al- 
ready perfected ; — but  this  one  thing  I  do^  forgetting 
those  things  which  are  behind^  and  reaching  forth  unto 
those  things  which  are  before^  I  press  toward  the  mark 
for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus . 
And  then  he  adds,  Let  us  therefore^  as  many  as  are 
perfect y  be  thus  minded. 

But  if  the  apoltle  thought  it  neceffary  for  thofc  who 
•were  in  his  ftate  of  perfedlion  to  be  thus  minded  ;  that 
is,  thus  labouiing,  prefling,  and  afpiring  after  fome 
degrees  of  holinefs,  to  which  they  were  not  then  arri- 
ved i  furely  it  is  much  more  neceffary  for  us,  to  be  thus 


(     20     ) 
n^Tiulcd  ;  tlius  earnell  and  nriving-  after  fuch  degrees  of  a 
holy  lif*?^  :'S  we  have  not  'yet  attained. 

7.  The  belt  way  for  any  one  to  know  how  much  he 
ought  to  afpire  after  holinefs,  is  to  aik  himfelf,  how 
much  he  thinks  will  make  him  eafy  at  the  hour  of 
death  ? 

Now  any  man  that  dares  put  this  queftiofi  to  him- 
felf, will  be  forcc^d  to  anfwer,  that  at  death,  every  one 
will  wifh,  he  had  been  as  perfed\  as  human  nature  can 
be. 

Is  not  this  fufficlent  to  put  us,  not  only  upon  wifh- 
ing,  but  labouring  aftei-  all  that  perfe^ion  which  we 
Ihall  then  lament  the  want  of?  Is  it  not  cxcellive  folly 
to  be  content  with  fuch  a  courfe  of  piety  as  we  already 
know  cannot  content  us,  at  a  time  when  we  fhall  f^ 
want  it,  as  to  have  nothing  elfe  to  comfont  us  ?  How 
can  we  carry  a  feverer  condemnation  againft  ourfelves, 
than  to  believe,  that  at  the  hour  of  death,  we  fhall 
■want  the  virtues  of  the  faints,  and  wifh  that  we  had 
been  amongR  the  firft  fervants  of  God,  and  yet  take  no 
methods  of  arriving  at  their  height  of  piety,  whilfl  we 
are  alive  ? 

8.  Though  this  is  an  abfurdity  that  we  can  pafs  over, 
whilil  the  health  of  our  bodies,  the  pafTions  of  our 
minds,  the  noife  and  hurry,  and  pleafures,  and  buli- 
nefs  of  the  world,  lead  us  on  with  eyes  that  fee  not  ; 
yet  at  death,  it  will  appear  before  us  in  a  dreadful 
magnitude  :  it  will  haunt  us  like  a  difmal  ghoft  ;  and 
our  coni'ciences  will  never  let  us  take  our  eyes  from  it. 

We  fee  in  worldly  matters,  what  a  torment  felf-con- 
demnation  is  ;  and  how  hardly  a  man  is  able  to  forgive 
himfelf,  when  he  has  brought  himfelf  into  any  calami- 
ty or  dif<^racc,  purely  by  his  ovvn  folly.  The  affli6li- 
on  is  made  doubly  tormentmg.  if  he  is  forced  to 
charge  it  all  upon  himfelf,  as  his  own  aft  and  deed, 
again  ft  the  reafon  of  tilings,  and  contrary  to  the  advice 
of  ins  friends. 

Now  by  this  we  may  in  fome  degree  guefs,  how 
terrible  that  felf-condcmnation  will  be,  when  a  man 
fliall  find  himlVli  in  the  mifery  of  death,  under  the  fe- 
verity    of  a  felf-condemning    confcience  ;  charging  all 


(     21      ) 

his  diflrffs  upon  bis  own  folly  and  madnefs,  agalnrt  the 
itnfe  and  reafon  of  his  own  mind,  againfl:  all  the  doc- 
trines and  precepts  of  religion,  and  contrary  to  all  the 
inftru^lons,  calls,  and  warnings  bfith  of  God  and  man. 

9.  *  Penitens  was  a  bufy,  notable  tradcfman,  and  ve- 
ry profperoiis  in  his  dealings,  but  died  in  the  thirty- 
fifth  year  of  his  age. 

A  little  before  his  death,  when  the  do^lors  had  given 
liim  over,  fome  of  his  neighbosrs  came  one  evening  to 
fee  him  ;•  at  which  time  he  fpoke  tlius  to  them  : 

I  fee,  my  friends,  the  tender  concern  you  have  for 
me,  by  the  grief  that  appears  in  your  countenances  ; 
and  I  know  the  thoughts  that  you  have  about  me.  You 
think  how  melancholy  a  cafe  it  is,  to  fee  fo  young  a  man, 
and  in  fuch  fiourilhing  bufiwefs,  delivered  up  to  death. 
And  perhaps,  had  I  vifited  any  of  you  in  my  condition, 
I  fliould  have  had  the  fame  thoughts  of  you. 

But  now,  my  friends,  my  thoughts  are  no  more  like 
your  thoughts,  than  my  condition  is  like  yours. 

It  is  HO  trouble  to  me  now  to  think,  that  I  am  to  die 
young,  or  before   I  have  raifed  an  eftate. 

Thefe  things  are  now  funk  into  fuch  mere  nothings, 
that  1  have  no  name  little  enough  to  call  them  by.  For 
if  in  a  few  days  or  hours,  I  am  to  leave  this  carcafe  to 
be  buried  in  the  earth,  and  to  find  myfelf  either  for 
ever  happy  in  the  favour  of  God,  or  eternally  feparated 
from  all  light  and  peace,  can  any  words  fufficiently  ex- 
prefs  the  littlenefs  of  every  thing  elfe  ? 

Is  there  any  dream  Hkc  the  dream  of  life,  which  amu- 
fes  us  with  the  difregard'of  thefe  things  ?  Is  there  any 
folly  like  the  folly  of  oui-  manly  ftate,  which  Is  too  wife 
and  bufy  to  be  at  leifurc  for  thefe  reflexions  ? 

10.  When  ^ve  confider  death  as  a  mifery,  we  only 
think  of  it  as  a  miferable  feparation  from  the  enjoyment 
of  this  life.  We  fcldom  mourn  over  an  old  man  that 
dies  rich  ;  but  we  lament  the  young,  that  are  taken 
away  in  the  progrefs  of  their  fortune.  You  yourfelves 
look  upon  me  with  pity,  not  that  I  am  going  unpre- 
pared to  meet  the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead,  but 
that  I  am  to  leave  a  profperous  trade  in  the  flower  of 
my  life. 


(     52     ) 

This  Is  the  wifdom  of  our  manly  thoughts  :  And  yet 
what  folly  of  the  filiieft  children  is  fo  great  as  this  ? 

For  what  is  there  miferable  in  death,  but  the  confe- 
quence  of  it  ?  When  a  man  is  dead,  what  does  any 
thing-  fignily  to  him,  but  the  (late  he  is  then  in  ? 

Onr  poor  friend  Lepidus  died,  you  know,  as  he  was 
drelung  himfelf  for  a  feaft.  Do  you  think  it  is  now 
part  of  his  trouble,  that  he  did  not  live  till  that  enter- 
tainment was  over  ?  Fealls,  and  bufinefs,  and  pleafures, 
and  enjoyments,  feem  great  things  to  us,  whUft  we  think 
of  nothing  elfe  ;  but  as  foon  as  we  add  death  to  them, 
they  all  fink  into  an  equal  littlenefs  ;  and  the  foul,  that 
is  feparated  from  the  body,  no  more  laments  the  lof*  of 
buHnefs,  than  the  lofing  of  a  feaft. 

If  I  am  now  going  into  the  joys  of  God,  could  there 
be  any  reafon  to  grieve,  that  this  happened  to  me  before 
1  was  forty  years  of  age  ?  Could  it  be  a  fad  thing  to  go 
to  heaven,  before  I  bad  made  a  few  more  bargains,  and 
flood  a  little  longer  behind  a  counter  ? 

And  if  I  am  to  go  amongft  loft  fpirits,  could  tlierebe 
any  reaibn  to  be  content,  that  this  did  not  happen  to 
me  till  I  Yfas  old,  and  full  of  riches?  If  good  an^eh 
"were  ready  to  receive  my  foul,  could  it  be  any  grief  to 
luc,  that  I  v^'as  dying  upon  a  poor  bed  in  a  garret? 

And  if  God  has  delivered  me  up  to  evil  fpirits,  to 
be  dragi^ed  by  them  to  places  of  torment,  could  it  be 
anv  comfort  to  me,  that  they  found  me  upon  a  bed  of 
ftate  ? 

I  i.  When  you  are  as  near  death  as  I  am,  you  will 
know,  that  all  the  different  ftates  of  life,_ whether  of 
youth  or  age,  riches  or  poverty,  greatnefs  or  meannefs, 
fignify  no  more  to  you,  than  whether  you  die  in  a  poor 
or  (lately  apartment. 

'J'he  greatneis  of  tbofe  things  which  follow  death, 
makes  all  that  go  before  it  fink  into  nothing. 

Now  that  everlafting  happinefs  or  mifery  is  come  fo 
near,  all  tlie  eiijoyment  and  profperities  of  life  feem  as 
vain  and  infjgnificant,  and  to  have  no  more  to  do  with 
my  happinefs  than  the  clothes  that  1  wore  before  J  could 
ipcak. 


(     23     ) 

But,  my  friends,  liow  am  I  fiirprifed,  that  I  have 
not  always  h:-id  thelc  thoughts  !  For  what  is  there  in 
the  terrors  of  death,  in  the  vanities  of  life,  or  the  ne- 
ceffities  of  piety,  but  what  I  might  have  as  eafily  and 
fully  feen  in  any  part  of  my  life  ? 

What  a  Rrange  thing  is  it,  that  a  little  health,  or  the 
poor  bufinefs  of  a  fliop,  fliould  keep  us  fo  fenfclefs  of 
thefc  great  things  that  are  coming  fo  fall  upon  us  1 

12,  Juft  as  you  came  into  my  chamber,  T  was  think- 
ing with  myfelf,  what  numbers  of  fouls  there  are  now 
in  the  world  in  my  coneiitioi-;  at  this  very  time,  furprif- 
cd  with  a  fummons  to  the  other  world  ;  fome  taken 
from  their  fliops  and  farms,  others  from  iheir  fports  and 
pleafures,  thefe  at  fuits  at  law,  thofe  at  gaming  tables, 
ibme  on  the  road,  others  at  their  own  fire-fides,  and  all 
feized  at  an  hour  when  they  thought  iiot  of  it ;  frighted 
at  the  approach  of  death,  confounded  at  the  vanity  of 
all  their  labours,  deligns  and  projefts,  afloniflied  at  the 
folly  of  their  pad  lives,  and  not  knowing  which  way 
to  turn  their  thoughts,  to  find  any  comfort  ;  their  con- 
fciences  flying  in  their  faces,  bringing  all  tlieir  fins  to  re- 
membrance, prefcnting  them  with  the  fight  of  the  an- 
gry Judge,  the  worm  that  never  dies,  the  fire  that  is 
never  quenched,  the  gates  of  hell,  the  powers  of  dark- 
nefs,  and  the  bitter  pains  of  eternal  death. 

O  my  friends  !  blefs  God  that  you  are  not  of  this 
number,  that  you  have  time  and  ftrength  fo  to  employ 
yourfelves,  as  may  bring  you  peace  at  the  laft. 

13.  You,  perhaps,  when  you  confider  that  I  have 
lived  free  from  fcandal  and  debauchery,  and  in  the  com- 
munion of  the  church,  wonder  to  fee  me  fo  full  of  re- 
morfe  and  felf-condemnation  at  the  approach  of  death. 

It  is  true,  I  have  lived  in  the  communion  of  the 
church,  and  frequented  its  fervice  on  Sundays,  when  I 
was  not  too  idle,  or  othcrwife  difpofed  of  by  my  bufinefs 
KT\d  pleafures  :  but  then,  my  conformity  to  the  public 
worfliip  has  been  rather  a  thing  of  courfe,  than  from  any 
real  intention  of  glorifying  God  ;  had  it  not  been  fo,  I 
had  been  more  devout  when  there,  and  more  fearful 
of  ever  negleding  it. 


(     24     ) 

14.  But  the  thing  that  now  furprifes  me  above  all 
"Wonders,  is  this,  that  I  never  had  fo  much  as  a  general 
intention  of  living  up  to  the  piety  of  the  gofpel.  This 
never  fo  much  as  entered  into  my  heart.  I  never  once 
in  my  life  confidered,  whether  my  vf  ay  of  life  was  fuch 
as  would  procure  me  the  mercy  of  God  at  this  hour. 

How  eafy  a  thing  would  falvation  be,  if  it  could  fnll 
into  my  carclefs  hands,  who  have  never  had  fo  much 
ff^rious  thought  about  it,  as  about  any  one  common  bar- 
gain that  I  have  made  ? 

Do  you  think  any  thing  can  aftonifti  and  confound  a 
dying  man  like  this  ?  What  pain  do  you  think  a  man 
mufl  feel,  when  his  confcience  lays  all  this  folly  to  his 
charge,  when  it  fhews  him  how  regular,  exa<St,  and  wife 
he  has  been  in  fmall  matters,  that  are  paffcd  away  like 
a  dream,  and  how  ftupid  and  fenfelefs  he  has  lived  with- 
out any  refleftion,  in  things  of  fuch  eternal  moment, 
as  no  heart  can  fufficiently  conceive  them  ? 

O  my  friends  I  a  carelefs  life,  unconcerned  and  in- 
attentive to  the  duties  of  religion,  is  fo  without  all  ex- 
cwfe,  fo  unworthy  of  the  mercy  of  God,  fuch  a  fliame 
to  the  fenfc  and  reafon  of  our  minds,  that  I  can  hardly 
conceive  a  greater  punilTiment,  than  for  a  man  to  be 
thrown  into  the  ftate  that  I  am  in,  to  reflect  upon  it. 

Penitens  was  here  going  on  but  had  his  mouth  flop- 
ped by  a  convulfion,  which  never  fuffered  him  to  fpeak 
any  more.  He  lay  convulfed  for  about  twelve  hours, 
and  then  gave  up  the  ghoft. 


CHAP.     IV. 


We  can  please  God  in  no  State  or  Employment^    but  by 
intending  and  devoting  it  all  to  his  Glory* 

1,  TTAVING  already  ftated  the  general  nature  of 
XjL  devotion,  and  ftiewn,  that  it  implies  not  any 
form  of  prayer,  but  a  certain  form  of  life,  that  is  pffer- 
ed  to  God,  not  at  any  particular  times  or  places,  but 
every  where  and  in  every  thing  j  I  (hall  now  defcend  to 


(      2^      ) 

fome  particulars,   niid  {liew  how    we    are  to  devote  our 
labour  and  employmep.t,  our  time  and  fortunes,  to  God. 

As  a  Chriltian  ihould  confider  every  place  as  hoi)-, 
becaufe  God  is  there  ;  lb  he  fliould  look  upon  every 
part  of  his  Hie  as  a  matter  of  holinel's,  beckuie  it  is  to 
be  offered  to  God. 

The  profefHon  of  a  clergyman  is  an  holy  profclTion, 
becaufe  it  is  a  minidration  in  holy  things.  But  worldly 
bufmefs  is  to  be  made  holy,  by  being  done  as  a  fervicc  to 
GoJ,  and  in  conformity  to  his  will. 

For  as  all  men,  and  all  things  in  the  world,  as  truly 
belong  unto  God,  as  any  places,  things,  orperfons,  that 
are  devoted  to  divine  I'trvice  ;  fo  all  thmg^i  are  to  be 
nfed,  and  all  perfons  are  to  adl  in  their  fevcral  Rates  fur 
the  glory  of  God. 

Men  of  bufinefs  therefore  muft  not  look  upon  them- 
felves  as  at  liberty  to  live  to  themfelves,  to  facrificc  to 
their  own  humours  and  tempers,  becaufe  theiremployment 
is  of  a  woildly  nature  :  but  they  mufl  confider,  that  as 
the^world,  and  all  worldly  profeflions,  as  truly  belong 
to  God  as  perfons  and  things  that  are  devoted  to  the  al- 
tar :  fo  it  is  as  much  the  duty  of  men  in  worldly  bufi- 
ficfs  to  live  wholly  unto  God,  as  it  is  the  duty  of  thofe 
•who  are  devoted  to  divine  fervice. 

2.  As  the  whole  world  is  God's  ;  fo  the  whole  world 
IS  to  ad  for  God.  As  all  men  have  the  fame  relation  to 
God,  as  all  men  have  all  their  powers  and  faculties  from 
God  ;  fo  all  men  are  obliged  to  ad  for  God  with  all  their 
powers  and  faculties, 

*  As  all  things  are  God's  ;  fo  all  things  are  to  be  ufed 
and  regarded  as  the  things  of  God.  For  men  to  abufe 
things  on  earth,  and  live  to  themfelves  is  the  fame  rebel- 
lion again  ft  God,  as  for  angels  to  abufe  things  in  heaven  ; 
becaufe  God  is  juft  the  fame  Lord  of  all  on  earth>  as  he 
h  of  all  in  heaven. 

Things  may,  and  muft  differ  in  their  ufe  ;  but  yet  they 
ire  all  to  be  ufed  according  to  the  will  of  God. 
.  Men  may,  and  muft  differ  in  their  employments  ;  but 
yet  they  muft  all  ad  for  the  fame  ends,  as  dutiful  fer- 
v^nts  of  God,  in  the  right  and  pious  performance  of 
t^cir  fevcral  cdlings. 

G 


(     26     ) 

3.  Clergymen  mufl  live  wholly  unto  God  in  one  par- 
ticular way  ;  that  is,  in  the  rxerciic  of  holy  offices,  in  the 
mir.iflration  of  prayers  and  facraments,  and  a  zealous  dif- 
tribution  of  fpiritiial  goods. 

But  inen  of  other  employments  are,  in  their  particular 
vays,  as  much  obliged  to  a<fl  as  the  fervants  of  God, 
and  live  wholly  unto  him  In  their  feveral  tailings. 

This  is  the  only  difference  between  clergymen  and 
people  of  other  callings. 

♦When  it  can  be  Oiewn,  that  men  may  be  vain,  covet- 
ous, feniual,  worldly-minded,  or  proud  in  the  exercife 
of  their  worldly  bufinefs,  then  it  will  be  allowable  for 
clergymen  to  indulge  the  fame  tempers  in  their  facred 
profclTions.  For.  though  thefe  tempers  are  mod  odious 
and  mod  criminal  in  clergymen,  who  bcfides  their  baptif- 
mal  vow,  have  a  fccond  time  devoted  themftlves  to  God, 
to  be  his  fervants,  not  in  the  common  offices  of  life,  but  in 
the  fervice  of  the  moft  holy  things.  ;  and  who  are  there- 
foie  to  keep  thcmfelves  as  feperate  from  the  common  life 
of  other  men,  as  a  church  or  an  altar  is  to  be  kept  fepa- 
ralt  from  houfes  and  tables  of  common  ufe  :  yet  as  all 
Churt'.ans  are  by  their  baptifm  devoted  to  God  and  made 
prvU^eifors  of  holinels  ;  fo  are  they  all  in  their  feveral  cal- 
1  n^-'  to  live  as  holy  and  ht  avenly  perfons  ;  doing  every 
thing  in  their  common  life  only  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  it 
may  be  received  by  God,  as  a  fervice  done  to  Mm.  For 
things  fpiritual  and  temporal,  facred  and  common,  murt, 
like  men  and  angels,  like  heaven  and  earth,  all  confpirc 
in  the  glory  of  God. 

4.  *  As  there  is  but  one  God  and  Father  of  us  all, 
whole  glory  gives  light  and  life  to  every  thing  that 
lives,  whofe  prefence  fills  all  places,  whofe  power  fup- 
ports  all  beings,  whofe  providence  ruleth  all  events  ;  fo 
every  thing  that  lives,  whether  in  heaven  or  earth,  whe- 
ther they  be  thrones  or  principalities,  men  or  angels,  mufl, 
all,  with  one  fpirit,  live  v  holly  to  the  praife  and  glory 
of  this  one  God  and  Father  of  them  all.  Angels  as  angels, 
in  their  heavenly  miniflratior.s,  but  mtn  as  men,  women 
as  women,  biftiopsas  biniops,  priefts  as  prieits,  and  deacons 
|is  deacons  ;  fome  with  things  fpiritual,  and  fome  with 
things  temporal,  offering  to  God  the  daily  facrifice  of  a 


(    2r    ) 

rrafonable  life,  wife  adlions,  purity  of  heart,    and    hea- 
venly  affections. 

This  is  thecommonbuniiefbcf  allnerfons  in  this  work!. 
It  Is  not  left  to  any  women  in  the  world  to  trifle  away 
their  time  in  tlie  iollies  and  imperiincncles  of  a  falhio.ia- 
ble  life,  nor  to  any  men  to  Y^{]gn  tliemfelves  up  to  world- 
ly cares  and  concerns  :  it  is  not  left  to  tht-  ric  h,  to  ^-ratify 
their  paffions  in  the  indulgences  and  pride  of  life,  nor  to 
the  poor,  to  vex  and  torment  their  htarts  with  the  poverty 
of  their  flite  ;  but  men  and  women,  rich  and  poor,  muft, 
with  bidiops  and  pricfls,  walk  before  God  In  the  fame 
wife  and  holy  fpirit,  in  the  fame  denial  of  all  vain  tem- 
pers, and  in  the  faKne  clirclpllne  and  care  of  their  fouls; 
jjot  only  becaufe  they  have  all  the  fame  rational  nature, 
and  are  fervants  of  the  fame  God,  but  becaufe  they 
all  want  the  fame  holinefs  to  make  them  fit  for  thp  fame 
happinefs.  It  is  therefore  abfolutely  neceffary  for  all 
Chriflians,  whether  men  or  women,  to  confider  them- 
felvcs  as  perfons  that  are  devoted  to  holinefs,  and  to  or- 
der their  common  ways  of  life  by  fucb  rules  of  reafon  and 
piety,  as  may  turn  it  into  a  continual  fervice  to  Ahni^^h- 
ty  God.  ^ 

5.  As  the  glory  of  God  Is  one  and  the  fame  thing  ; 
fo  whatever  we  do,  fuitable  to  it,  muft  be  done  with 
one  and  the  fame  fpirit.  That  fame  temper  of  mind  which 
makes  our  alms  and  devotions  acceptable,  nmfl  alfo  make 
our  labour,  or  employment,  a  proper  offering  to  God. 
If  a  man  purfiies  his  bufinefs,  that  he  may  raife  himfelf 
to  figure  and  glory  in  the  world,  he  is  no  longer  ferving 
God  in  his  employment;  he  is  ading  under  other  maf- 
ters,  and  has  no  more  title  to  a  reward  from  God,  than 
he  that  gives  alms  that  he  may  be  feen  of  men.  For  vain 
and  earthly  ddires  are  no  more  allowable  in  our  employ- 
ments, than  in  our  alms  and  devotions.  For  thefe  tem- 
pers of  worldly  pride,  and  vain  glory,  are  not  only  evil, 
when  they  mix  with  our  good  works  ;  but  they  have 
the  lame  evil  nature,  when  they  enter  into  our  common 
oufinels.  If  It  were  allowable  to  indulge  covetous  or 
vam  paffions  in  our  worldly  employments,  it  would  be  al- 
lowable to  be  vain-glorlous  in  our  devotions.  But  as  our 
alms  and    devotions  are  not  an  acceptable   fervice,  but 


(    £8    ) 

•^vhen  tiicy  prcceed  from  a  licart  iipiy  uevotf d  to  Gr:!; 
lb  our  common  einployment  cjiiinot  be  reckoned  a  irr- 
vice  to  hlni,  hut  %yhei.  it  is  piirformed  with  the  fame  pi- 
ety of  heart. 

6.  *  Mofl  of  the  empioyiTicnts  of  life  Tire  In  tjielr 
Qwn  nature  lawful  ;  and  all  thofe  thr.t  roc  fo,  may  be 
made  a  fubftantial  part  of  our  duty  to  God,  if  v/e  en^ 
gage  in  them  only  fo  far,  andforfuch  ends,  as  «re.fuiL? 
able  to  beings,  that  are  to  live  above  the  world,  ail  the 
time  they  live  in  the  world.  This  is  the  only  m(tafiire  of 
our  application  to  any  worldly  br.finefs  ;  let  it  be  what 
it  will,  or  where  it  will,  it  muft  have  no  more  of  our 
haiKis,  our  hearts,  or  our  time,  than  is  confident  with  an 
hearty,  daily,  careful  preparation  of  ourfelves  for  ano- 
ther life.  For  as  all  Chriftians,  as  fuch,  have  renounc- 
ed this  world,  to  prepare  themfelves  by  daily  devotion, 
find  univerfal  hdinefs.  for  an  eterr, -1  Rate  of  quite  ano- 
ther nature,  they  muft  look  upon  worldly  employments  as 
i:pon  worldly  wants,  and  bodily  infirmities  ;  things  not  to 
be  defired,  but  only  to  h'S  endured,  till  death  and  the 
refurre6\ion  have  carried  us  to  an  eternal  ftate  of  real 
happinefs. 

7.  Now  he  that  does  not  look  at  the  things  of  this 
life  in  this  degree  of  littlenefs,  cannot  be  faid  eitlier  to 
feel  or  believe  the  greatefl  truths  of  chriOianity.  For, 
if  he  thinks  any  thing  great  or  important  in  human  bu- 
fmefs,  can  he  be  faid  to  feel  or  believe  thofe  fcriptures 
which  reprefent  this  life,  and  the  pTt-ateft  things  of  life, 
PS  bubbles,  vapours,  dreams,  and  fhadows  ? 

If  he  thinks  figure,  ?.nd  fiievv,  and  worldly  glory, 
to  be  any  proper  happinefs  of  a  Chriflian,  how  can  he 
be  faid  to  IVel  or  bflieve  this  do6lrine.  Blessed  are  ye 
Kvhen  men  shall hatejou,  andr^-hen  they  shall  separate jyou 
from  their  company,  ar>d  shall  reproachyou,  and  cast  out 
your  name  as  evil,  for  the  Son  of  man's  sake  ?  Forfurely, 
*jf  there  was  any  real  happinefs  in  figure  and  fliew,  and 
^vorldly  glo'T  ;  if  thefe  things  deferved  cur  thoughts  and 
care,  it  could  not  be  matter  of  the  highefi  joy,  when  we 
are  torn  from  them  by  periecution  and  lufferings,  Jf  there- 
fore a  man  will  fo  live,  as  to  fhew,  that -iie  believes  the 
jnoil  fundamental  doctrines  of  chriUianit^',  he  mutl  live 


(     ^9     ) 

above  the  world  ;  he  mud  do  the  buHnefj  of  life,  aiul 
yet  live  wholly  unto  God.  And  it  is  as  nectffaiy  that 
people  live  in  tht- Ir  employments  with  this  temper,  as  it 
13  necelTary  that  their  employment  itrdt"  be  lawful, 

8.  *'rhehidbandman  that  tilleth  the  gronnd,  is  employ- 
ed in  an  honeft  bunnefs,  that  is  necelfary  in  life,  and  ve- 
ry capable  of  being  made  an  acceptable  fervice  unto  God  ; 
but  if  he  labours  and  toils,  not  to  ferve  any  reafonable 
ends  of  life,  but  in  brder  to  have  his  plough  made  of  di- 
ver, and  to  have  his  horfesharnalTed  in  gold,  the  honeily 
of  his  employment  is  loft  as  to  liim,  and  his  labour  be- 
comes his  felly. 

A  tradefman  may  juftly  think,  that  it  is  agreeable  to 
the  will  of  God  for  him  to  fell  fuch  things  Uo  are  ufeful 
in  life  ;  fuch  as  help  both  himfelf  and  others  to  a  rea- 
fonable fupport,  and  enable  them  to  affift  thofe  that 
want  to  be  affifted  :  but  if  inflead  of  this,  it  be  liis  chief 
end  in  it  to  grow  rich,  that  he  may  live  in  figure  and 
indulgence,  and  be  able  to  retire  from  bubnefs  to  idlenefs 
and  luxury,  his  trade,  as  to  him,  lofes  all  its  innocency, 
and  is  fo  far,  from  being  an  acceptable  fervice  to  God, 
that  it  is  only  a  more  piaufible  courfe  of  covetoufnefs, 
felf-love,  and  ambition.  For  fuch  a  one  turns  the  neccf- 
fities  of  his  employment  into  pride  and  covetoufnefs, 
jufi:  as  the  fot  and  epicure  turn  the  necefTities  of  eating 
and  drinking  into  gluttony  and  drunkennefs.  Now  he 
that  is  up  early  and  late,  that  fweats  and  labours  for 
thofe  ends,  that  he  may  be  fome  time  or  other  rich,  and 
live  in  pleafure  and  indulgence,  lives  no  more  to  the  glory- 
of  God  than  he  that  plays  and  games  for  the  fame  ends. 
For  though  there  is  a  great  difference  between  trading 
and  gaming  ;  yet  moft  of  that  difference  is  loPt,  wh(?n 
men  trade  with  the  fame  defires  and  tempers,  and  for  the 
fame  ends  that  others  game.  Charity  and  fine  drcffing 
are  things  very  different  ;  but  if  men  give  ahns  for  the 
■fame  reafons  that  others  drefs  fine,  only  to  be  feen  a^d 
admired,  charity  is  then  but  like  the  vanity  of  fine  clothes. 
In  like  mannei,  if  the  fame  motives  make  fome  people 
induftrious  in  their  trades,  which  make  others  conllant 
'tt  gaming  fuch  pains  are  but  like  the  pains  of  gaming. 

V.    *  Calidus  lias    traded  above    thirty  years    in   the 
C   2 


(     30     ) 

grejitefl:  city  of  the  kingdom  ;  he  has  been  fo  many 
years  conllantly  increaiing  his  trade  and  his  fcitune* 
Every  hour  of  the  day  is  with  him  an  hour  of  bufi- 
nefs  ;  and  tliough  he  eats  and  drinks  very  heartily,  yet 
every  meal  -ffcenis  to  be  in  a  hurry,  and  he  would  fay 
grace  if  he  had  time.  Calidus  ends  every  day  at  the 
tavern  ;  but  has  not  leifure  to  be  there  till  near  nine 
o'clock.  He  is  always  forced  to  drink  a  good  hearty 
glaf>,  to  drive  thoughts  of  buiincfs  out  of  his  kead,  and 
make  his  fpirits  drowly  enough  for  deep.  He  does  bu- 
finefs  all  the  time  that  he  is  rifing.,  and  has  fettled  fe- 
vin-al  matters  before  he  can  get  to  his  compting-houfe. 
His  prayers  are  a  fiiort  ejaculation  or  two,  which  he  ne- 
ver mliici  in  lK)rmy  weather,  becaufe  he  has  always 
fomething  or  other  at  fea.  Calidus  will  tell  you  with 
great  pleaUire  that  he  has  been  in  this  hurry  for  fo  ma- 
ny years,  and  th  it  it  mull  have  killed  him  long  ago, 
but  that  it  lias  b*en  a  rule  with  him,  to  get  cut  of  tlsc 
town  every  Saturday,  and  make  the  Sunday  a  day  of  qui- 
et and  good  refrelhnient  in  the  couniiy. 

*  He  is  now  fo  rich  that  he  would  leave  oflT  his  bufi- 
nefs,  and  amufe  his  old  ag-e  with  building  and  furnilhing 
a  fine  houfe  in  the  country;  but  that  he  is  afraid  he 
fliould  g-iovv  melancholy,  if  he  was  to  quit  his  bufmefs. 
He  will  tell  you  with  gceat  gravity,  that  it  is  a  dan- 
gerous thing  for  a  man,  that  has  been  ufed  to  get  mo- 
ney, ever  to  leave  it  off.  If  thoughts  of  religion  hap- 
pen at  any  time  to  fteal  into  his  head,  Calidus  contents 
himftlf  with  thinking,  that  he  never  was  a  friend  to 
heretics  and  infidels  ;  that  he  has  always  been  civil  to 
the  minilter  of  iiis  parifh,  and  very  often  given  fome- 
thing to  the  charity-fchools. 

10.  *  Now  this  way  of  life  is  at  fuch  a  diflance  from 
all  the  dodrines  .and  difcipline  of  chriftianity,  that  no 
one  can  live  in  it  through  ignorance  or  fraiity.  Cali- 
CLis  can  no  more  imagine,  that  he  is  horn  again  of  the 
Spirit  ;  (a)  that  he  is  in  Christ  a  new  creature  ;  (b)  that 
ht  li  VvS  hc.-c  as  a  stranger  ayid pilgrim^  setting  his  affecti- 
or.-:  ;:pon  things  above^  and  laying  up  t  reastire  in  heaven, {c) 
He  c;.in  no  more  imagine  this,  than  he  can  think  that 
(3)  Jolin  iii.   5.    (b)  i  Peter  ii.  ii,    (c)  Colof.  iii.  i. 


(      31      ) 

he  has  been  all  his  l;ie  an  apoRle,  workliri^  niliacles,  and 
preaching-  the  golpel. 

It  mull  alfo  be  owned,  that  the  generality  of  trr.din^ 
people,  efpecially  in  great  towns,  are  too  much  like 
Cali'Uis,  You  fee  them  all  the  week  buried  in  bufincrs, 
unable  to  think  of  any  thing  elfe  ;  and  then  ipending- 
the  Sunday  in  idlenefs  and  reiVefhinent,  in  wandering  into 
the  country^  in  luch  vifits  and  j'vial  meetings  as  mai>:e 
it  often  the  worft  day  of  t!ie  week. 

1  1.  Now  they  do  not  live  tlius,  becaufe  tliev  cannot 
fupport  themfrlves  with  lei's  care  and  application  to  bu- 
ll nel  3  ;  but  they  live  thus  becaufe  they  want  to  grow 
rich  in  their  trades,  and  to  maintain  their  families  in 
fome  fuch  figure  and  degree  of  finery,  as  a  reafonable 
Chritlian  has  no  occafion  for.  Take  away  but  this  tem- 
per, and  then  people  cf  all  trades  will  find  themftlves  at 
Icifure  to  live  every  day  like  Chriftians,  to  be  careful 
of  every  duty  of  the  gofpel,  to  live  in  a  vifible-  courfe 
of  religion,  and  be  every  day  ftricl  obferveri  both  of 
private  and  public  prayer. 

Now  the  only  way  to  do  this,  is  for  people  to  confi- 
der  their  trade  as  foinething  that  they  are  to  devote  to 
the  glory  of  God,  fomething  that  they  are  to  do  only 
in  fuch  a  manner,  as  that  they  may  make  it  a  duty  to 
him.  Nothing  -can  be  right  in  bufinefs,  that  is  not  un- 
der thefe  rules.  The  apoRle  commands  fervants,.fo  be  a- 
bsdicfit  to  their  masters  in  singleness  of  heart  as  unto 
Christ  ;  not  with  eje-service,  as  men  pleasers  ;  but  as 
the  servants  of  Christ  doing  the  will  of  God  from  the 
heart,*  With  good  ivill  doing  service  as  unto  the  Lord^ 
and   not  unto  men.] 

This  paffage  fufficiently  Ihewsv  that  all  Chriftians  are 
to  liv€  wholly  unto  God  in  every  flate  and  condition  ; 
doing  the  work  of  their  common  calling  in  fuch  a  manner, 
and  for  fuch  ends,  as  to  make  it  a  pan  of  their  fervice 
to  God.  For  if  poor  flaves  are  not  to  comply  with  their 
bufnieis  as  men-pleafcrs,  if  they  are  to  look  wholly  unto 
God  in  all  their  aClions,  and  ferve  in  finglenefs  fcf  heart, 
as  unto  the  Lord  ;  furely  men  of  other  conditions  mull 
be  as  much  obliged  to  go  through  their  buTinels  with 
the  fame  iinglentfs  of  heart ;  not  as  pleafmg  the  vanity 
*  Eph.  ri.  5.  t  Col.  iii.  22,  23. 


(     32     ) 

of  their  ^^v^!  raincis,  not  as  gTatlfylng  their  own  felfiili, 
■worliilv  pairions,  but  as  the  fervants  of  God  in  all  that 
tliey  I'iave  to  clo. 

IC*  It  is  therefore  abfolutely  certain,  that  no  Chrif- 
tian  is  to  enter  any  farther  into  bufinefs,  nor  for  any 
other  ends,  than  fuch  as  he  can,  in  finglenefs  of  heart, 
ofler  nnto  God  as  a  reafonable  fervice.  For  the  Son  of 
God,  having  redeemed  us  for  this  only  end,  thst  we 
fiiOLild,  by  a  life  ofreafbn  and  piety,  live  to  the  glory  of 
God  :  this  is  the  only  rule  and  nieafure  for  every  order 
and  (late  of  life.  Without  this  rule,  the  nioft  lawful 
employinent  becomes  a  finful  (late  of  life. 

*  Tftke  av/ay  this  from  the  life  of  a  clergyman,  and 
his  holy  profeffion  ferves  only  to  expofe  him  to  th.e 
greater  damnation.  Take  away  this  from  tradefmen,  and 
fnops  are  but  fo  many  houfes  of  greedinefs  and  filthy 
lucre.  Take  away  this  from  gentlemen,  and  the  couri'e 
of  their  life  becomes  a  courfe  of  fenfuality,  pride,  and 
Avantonnefs.  Take  away  this  rule  from  our  tables,  and 
all  falls  into  gluttony  and  drunkennefs.  Take  away 
this  meafure  from  our  dre;fs  and  habits,  and  all  is  turned 
into  fuch  paint  and  glitter,  and  ridiculous  ornaments,  as 
are  a  real  Ibame  to  the  wearer.  Take  away  this  from 
the  uie  of  our  fortunes,  and  you  will  find  people  fparing 
in  nothing  but  charity.  Take  away  this  from  our  di- 
vciTions,  and  you  will  find  no  fports  too  filly,  nor  any 
entertainments  too  vain  and  corrupt  to  be  the  pleafures 
of  Chriftians. 

13.  If  therefore  we  defire  to  live  unto  God,  it  is  ne- 
celTiry  to  bring  our  wliole  life  under  this  law,  to  make 
his  glory  the  fole  rule  and  meafure  of  our  aftlng  in  eve- 
ry employment  of  life.  For  there  is  no  other  true  de- 
votion, but  this  of  living  devoted  to  God  in  the  com- 
mon bufinefs  of  our  lives. 

*  So  that  men  muft  not  content  themfelves  with  the 
lawfulnefs  ot  their  employments  ;  but  mull:  confider  whe- 
ther they  ufe  them,  as  they  are  to  ufe  every  thing,  as 
Arangers  and  pilgrims,  that  are  baptifed  into  the  re- 
furredion  of  Jefus  Ghrift,  that  are  to  follow  him  in  a 
wife  and  heavenly  courfe  of  life,  in  the  mortification  of 
all  worldly  defires,  and  in  purifying  and  preparing  their 
louls  for  the  bleiled  enjoyment  of  God. 


(     33     ) 

For  to  be  vain,  or  proud,  or  covetous,  or  flvnbit-ioU'S' 
Iti  the  common  courfe  of  our  bufiivis,  is  ns  contrary  to 
tluire  holy  tempers,  as  cheating  and  diOu     -Rv. 

li'a  glutton  was  to  fay,  in  t-xcufe  of  his  gluttony, 
that  he  only  eats  fuch  things  as  it  is  la^-ful  to  eat,  he 
would  make  as  good  an  excufe  for  himitir^is  the  greedy, 
covetous,  ambitious  tradefman,  that  flioiild  fay,  he  on- 
ly deals  in  a  U>vful  bufincfs.  For  as  a  Chnflian  is  not 
only  required  to  be  honed,  but  to  be  of  a  Ghrifiian  Ipi- 
rit,  and  make  his  life  an  exercife  of  humility,  repentance, 
and  heavenly  aftection  ;  fo  all  ten.j^ers  contrary  to  tiiefe, 
are  as  contrary  to  chrlftiauity,  as  cheating  io  contrary 
to  honefly. 

14.  All  this  is  only  to  fhew  ur,  the  abfolute  neceCity  j 
of. fuch  uniform  piety,  as  extends  to  all  the  adions  of  m 
our  common  life.  *  J 

,     That  we  muft  eat,  and  drink,  and  drefs,  and  difcourfe 
according  to  the  fobric^y  of  the  Ckriftian  fpirit  ;  engage 
in  no  employments  but  fuch  as  we  can  truly  devote  unto 
.God  ;  nor  piirfue  them    any  fai-ther,    than    conduces  to  <  ; 
■the  reafoiuible  ends  of  a  holy  life. 

That  v/e  miifi:  be  honed,  not  only  on  particular  occa- 
f]ons,  and  in  fuch  inflances  as  are  applauded  in  the  Vvorld^ 
trafy  to  be  performedj  aiid  free  from  danger  or  lofs,  but 
from  fu'ii  a  living  principle  of  juUice,  as  makes  us  lov^ 
truih  and  integrity  in  all  its  inHiances,  and  follow  it 
through  all  dangers,  and  again fl  all  cppofuion  ;  ys  know- 
ing th'dt  the  more  we  pay  for  any  truth,  the  better  is 
cur  bargain,  ^nd  that  then  our  inc^^grity  becomes  ?.  pcirl, 
Avhen  v>'e  iiave  parted  with  all  to  keep  it. 

Thnt  we  mufl  be  Irjmbk,  not  only  in  fuch  inflances 
as  at  e  cxpecled  in  the  world,  or  fuitable  to  our  tcjupers, 
cr  conrried  to  particular  occafions,  but  in  fuch  a  fpirit, 
as  rt-ndrrs  us  meek  and  hv,'ly  in  th«  whole  courfe  cfour 
lives,  as  Hiews  itfelf  in  our  drcfs,  our  perfon,  our  con^ 
verfation.  r)ur  enjoyment  of  tiie  world,  patience  uiider  in- 
juries, fiibmillion  to  fuptriors,  and  condefcenfion  to  thofe 
■that  are  below  ns,  and  in  all  the  outward  actions  of  our 
lives. 

That  we  mufl:  not  only  devote  times  and  places  to 
prayer,  but  be  every    vvhere    \\^  the  fp  rlt  of  devQtioii, 


(     34     ) 

with  hearts  ahvavs  fet  "towards  heaven,  looking  up  to 
God  In  all  our  adlions.  and  doing  every  tiling  as  ft^r- 
vants  living  in  the  world,  as  in  an  holy  temple  of  God  ; 
always  worOiipping  him  though  not  with  our  lips,  yet 
with  the  thankfiilnefs  of  our  hearts,  the  holinefs  of  our 
aftions,  and  the  pious  and  charitable  ufe  of  his  gifts.' 
That  v/e  iTiufl  not  only  fend  up  petitions  and  thongjits. 
now  and  then  to  heaven  ;  but  njuil  go  through  all  our 
worldly  bufinefs,  with  an  heavenly  fpirit>  as  members 
of  Chrift's  myftical  body,  that  with  new  hearts  and 
new  minds,  we  are  to  turn  an  earthly  life  into  a  prepa- 
ration for  a  life  of  greatnefs  and  glory  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

15.  Enough,  1  hope,  has  been  faid,  to  fhew  yon  the 
neceffity  of  thus  introducing  religion  into  all  the  anions 
of  our  co!nmon  life,  and  of  living  and  acting  with  the 
fame  regard  to  God  in  all  that  you  do,  as  in  your  pray- 
ers and  alms, 

Eating  is  one  of  the  lowed  afVions  of  our  lives  ;  it  is 
common  to  us  with  mere  animals  :  j'-et  we  fee  that  the 
piety  of  all  ages  of  the  world,  lias  turned  this  ordinary 
aflion  of  the  animal  life,  into  a  piety  to  God,  by  ma- 
king every  meal  to  begin  and  end  with  devotion. 

*  We  fee  yet  fome  remains  of  this  cuflom  in  mofl 
Clniflian  families  ;  fome  fuch  little  formality  as  fliev/s 
you,  that  people  ufed  to  call  upon  God  at  the  begin- 
uing  and  end  of  their  meals.  But  indeed  it  is  general- 
ly now  fo  performed,  as  to  look  more  like  a  mockery 
upon  devotion,  than  any  folemn  application  of  the  m.ind 
unto  God.  In  one  houfe  you  may  perhaps  fee  the  head 
of  the  family  jufl  pulling  off  his  hat  ;  in  another  half 
getting  up  from  his  feat  ;  another  fliall,  it  may  be,  pro- 
ceed fo  far,  as  to  make  as  if  he  faid  fomething  :  but 
however,  thefe  little  attempts  are  the  remains  of  fome 
devotion  that  was  formerly  ufed  at  fuch  times,  and  are 
proofs  that  religion  has  formerly  belonged  to  this  part 
of  common  life. 

But  to  fuch  a  p'afs  are  we  now  corns,  that  though  the 
cuflom  is  ftill  preferved,  yet  we  can  hardly  bear  with 
him  tiiat  feems  to  perform  it  with  any  degree  of  ferioul- 
neis,  and  look  upon  it  as  a  fign  of  fanatical  tempeu,  it 
«i  man  has  not  done  it  as  foon  a?  he  begins. 


(     35      ) 

T  would  not  be  thought  to  plead  for  the  neceffity  of 
long  prayers  at  thefe  times  ;  but  thus  much  I  think  may 
be  laid,  that  if  prayer  is  proper  at  thcic  times,  \vc 
ought  to  ufe  liich  words  as  fliould  fliew,  that  we  folemn- 
ly  appeal  to  God  for  fuch  graces  and  blelFings  as  are 
proper  to  the  occafion  ;  otherwiie  the  mock-cereuiony, 
inliead  of  blcfling  our  vidluals,  does  but  accuflom  us  to 
trifle  with  devotion,  and  give  us  a  habit  of  being  unaf- 
feftcd  with  our  prayers. 

16.  If  every  head  of  a  family  would,  at  the  return  of 
every  meal,  make  a  folemn  adoration  of  God,  in  fuch 
u  decent  manner  as  becomes  a  devout  mind,  it  would 
be  very  likely  to  teach  him,  that  fvvearing,  fenfuality, 
gluttony  and  loofe  difcourfe.  were  very  improper  at  thofe 
meals,   which  were  to  begin  and  end  with  devotion. 

Anu  if  in  thefe  days  of  general  corruption,  this  part 
of  devotion  is  fallen  into  a  mock-ceremony,  it  mull  be  im- 
puted to  this,  thi.t  fenfuality  and  intemperance  have  got 
too  great  power  over  us,  to  fuffer  us  to  add  any  devoti- 
on to  our  meals.  But  thus  much  muft  be  laid,  that 
when  we  are  as  pious  as  Jews  and  heathens  of  all  ages 
have  been,  we  fhall  think  it  proper  to  pray  at  the  be- 
ginning and  end  of  our  meals. 

I  have  appealed  to  this  pious  cuflom  of  all  ages,  as 
a  proof  of  the  reafonablenefs  of  the  dodrine  of  this  and 
the  foregoing  chapters;  that  is,  as  a  proof  that  religi- 
on is  to  be  the  rule  and  mcafure  of  all  the  adtions  of  our 
ordinary  life.  Forfurely,  if  we  are  not  to  eat,  but  un- 
der fuch  rules  of  devotion,  it  muft  appear,  that  wnate- 
Tcr  tlfe  we  do,  muft  in  its  proper  way,  be  done  with 
the  fame  regard  to  the  glory  of  God. 


(     36     ) 
CHAP.     V. 

Persons  that  are  free  from  the  Necessity  of  Labour  and 
Employments^  are  to  consider  themselves  as  devoted  to 
God  in  a  higher  degree, 

1.  /'~^REAT  part  of  the  world  are  free  from  the  ne- 

VJ"  ceflities  of  labour,  and  have  their  time  and 
fortunes  in  their  own  difpofal. 

But  as  no  one  is  to  live  in  his  employment  according  to 
his  own  humour,  or  to  pleafe  his  own  fancy,  but  is  to 
do  all  his  bufinefs  m  fuch  a  manner  as  to  make  it  a  fer- 
vice  unto  God;  fo  thofe  who  have  no  particular  em- 
ployment, are  fo  far  from  being  left  at  liberty  to  live 
to  themfelves,  to  purfuc  their  own  humours,  and  fpend 
their  time  and  fortune  as  they  pleafe,  that  they  are  un- 
der greater  obligations  of  living  wholly  unto  God  in 
all  their  aftions. 

The  freedom  of  their  ftate  lays  them  under  a  greater 
neceflity  of  always  chufing  and  doing  the  beft  things. 

They  are  thofe,  of  whom  much  will  be  required,  be- 
caufe  much  is  given  unto  them. 

A  flave  can  only  live  unto  God  in  one  particular 
way  ;  that  is  by  religious  patience  and  fubmiflion  in 
his  ft  ate  of  flavery. 

But  all  ways  of  holy  living,  all  inftances,  and  all 
kinds  of  virtue,  lie  open  to  thofe  who  are  mafters  of 
themfelves,  their  time,  and  their  fortune. 

It  is  as  much  the  duty,  therefore,  of  fuch  perfons, 
to  make  a  wife  ufe  of  their  liberty,  to  devote  them- 
felves to  all  kinds  of  virtue,  to  afpire  after  every  thing 
that  is  holy  and  pious,  and  to  pleafe  God  in  the  higheft 
and  moR  perfe^l  manner,  as  it  is  the  duty  of  a  flave  to 
be  refigned  unto  God  in  his  ftate  of  flavery. 

2.  You  are  no  labourer  or  tradefraan,  you  are  neither 
merchant,  nor  foldier  ;  confider  yourfelf  therefore,  as  pla- 
ced in  a  ftate,  in  fome  degree  like  that  of  good  angels, 
who  are  fent  into  the  world  as  miniftering  fpirits,  for  the 
general  good  of  mankind,  to  aflift,  proteft,  andminifter 
for  them  who  (hall  be  heirs  of  falvation. 


(     27     ) 

For  the  more  you  are  free  from  the  common  ncccffitlcs 
ot  men,  the  more  you  are  to  imitate  the  higher  perfeai- 
ons  of  angels. 

Had  you,  Serena,  been  obliged  to  wafh  clothes  for 
your  maintenance,  or  to  wait  upon  fome  miftref^,  that 
demanded  all  your  labour,  it  would  be  your  duty  to  glori- 
fy God,  by  fuch  humility,  obedience  and  faithfulnefs,  as 
might  adorn  that  flate  of  life. 

It  would  then  be  recommended  to  your  care,  to  im- 
prove that  one  talent  to  its  greatcft  height.  That  when 
the  time  came  for  mankind  to  be  rewarded  for  their  la- 
bours by  the  great  Judge  of  quick  and  dead,  vou  might 
be  received  with  a  well  done  good  and  faithful  servant^ 
enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord, 

But  as  God  h^s  given  you  five  talents,  as  he  has  pla- 
ced you  above  the  necefTities  of  life,  as  he  has  left  you  in 
the  happy  liberty  of  chufing  the  moft  exalted  ways  of 
virtue  ;  as  he  has  left  you  nothing  to  do,  but  to  make 
the  befl  ufe  of  variety  of  blelTings,  to  make  the  beft: 
of  a  Ihort  life,  to  ftudy  your  own  perfedion,  the  ho- 
nor of  God,  and  the  good  of  your  neighbour  ;  fo  it  is 
now  your  duty  to  enquire  how  the  moft  eminent  faintis 
have  lived,  to  ftudy  all  the  arts  and  methods  of  perfedli- 
on,  and  to  fet  no  bounds  to  your  love  and  gratitude  to 
the  bountiful  author  of  fo  many  bleflings. 

3.  It  is  now  your  duty  to  turn  your  five  talents,  into 
five  more,  and  to  confider  how  your  tin^e,  and  Icifure, 
and  health,  and  fortune,  may  be  made  fo  many  happy 
means  of  purifying  your  own  foul,  improving  your  feU 
low-crea-cures,  and  of  carrying  you  at  laft  to  the  great- 
eft  heights  of  eternal  glory. 

As  you  have  no  milbefs  to  ferve,  fo  let  your  own  foul 
be  the  objea  of  your  daily  care  and  attendance. 

Nourifh  it  with  good  works,  give  it  peace  in  folitude, 
get  It  ftrength  in  prayer,  make  it  wife  with  reading, 
enlighten  it  by  meditation,  make  it  tender  with  love, 
Iweeten  It  with  humility,  enliven  it  with  pfalms  and  hymns, 
and  comfort  it  with  frequent  refleftions  upon  future  glo- 
ry. Keep  it  in  the  pr,  fence  of  God,  and  teach  it  to  imi- 
tate thole  guardian  angels,  which  though  they  attend  on 
D 


(    ss    ) 

the  loweil  of  mankir.cl,  yet  '*  always  behold  the  face  of 
our  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 

This,  Serena,  is  your  profcfTion.  For  as  fnre  as  God 
is  one  God,  i'o  fure  it  is,  that  lie  lias  but  one  command 
to  all  mankind,  whether  they  be  bond  or  free,  rich  or 
poor;  and  that  is,  to  a<Sl  up  to  the  excellency  of  their 
nature,  to  live  by  reafon,  to  walk  in  the  light  of  religion, 
ro  glorify  God  in  all  his  gifts,  and  dedicate  every  con- 
dition of  life  to  his  fervice. 

This  is  the  one  common  command  of  God  to  all  man- 
kind. If  you  have  an  employment,  you  are  to  be  thus 
reafonuble,  and  holy,  in  the  exercife  of  it;  if  you  have 
time  and  a  fortune  in  your  own  power,  you  are  to  be 
thus  reafonable,  and  holy,  in  the  ufe  of  all  your  time, 
and  all  your  fortune. 

4.  The  right  ufe  of  every  talent,  is  the  indifpenfible 
duty  of  every  being,  that  is  capable  of  knowing  right 
or  wrong. 

For  the  reafon  why  we  are  to  do  any  thing  as  unto 
God,  and  with  regard  to  our  relation  to  him,  is  the 
fame  reafon  why  we  are  to  do  every  thing  as  unto  God, 
and  with  regard  to  this  relation. 

That  which  is  a  reafon  for  our  being  "wife  and  holy, 
in  the  difcharge  of  all  our  bufinefs,  is  the  fame  reafon 
for  our  being  wife  and  holy  i»  the  ufe  of  all  our  money. 

*  As  we  have  always  the  fame  natures,  and  are  every 
where  the  fervants  of  the  fame  God,  as  every  place  is 
equally  full  of  his  prefence,  and  every  thing  is  equally 
his  gift,  fo  we  muil  do  every  thing  as  the  fervants  of 
X,  ;d  ;  we  muft  live  in  every  place,  as  in  his  prefence  ; 
■vve  muft  ufe  every  thing,  as  that  ought  to  be  ufed  which 
belongs  to  God. 

Either  this  wifdom,  and  devotion  is  to  go  through  ev- 
ery way  of  life,  or  it  is  to  go  through  no  part  of  life. 

Jf  we  might  forget  ourfelves,  or  forget  God  ;  if  we 
might  live  by  humour  or  fancy,  in  any  thing,  or  at  any 
time,  ox  in  any  place,  it  would  be  as  lawful  to  do  the 
fame  in  every  thing,  and  every   time,   and  every   place. 

5.  If  therefore  fome  people  fancy,  that  they  muft  be 
grave  and  fole^nn  at  church,  but  may  be  filly  and  fran- 
tic »t  home  ;  that  they  muft  live  by  fome  rule  on  the 


(     39     ) 

Simcliy,  but  m:iy  fpeiid  othci- cu  y3  by  chance  ;  tl.rit;  they 
niiift  have  Ibine  times  of  prayer,  but  may  w:«Re  tlic  ivll 
oi'tlirir  time  as  they  pleafc  ;  that  tlicy  miiR  give  fome 
money  in  charity,  but  may  fquariCier  ?.v,;;y  the  veil  as 
they  have  a  miiul  ;  fiich  people  have  net  ccr.nck-iKi  i-'.ie 
nnture  of  religion,  nor  the  true  rtafons  of  piety.  For 
he  that  upon  principles  of  re  a  Ion  can  tell,  why  it  is 
good  to  be  wife  and  heavenly-minded  at  church,  can 
tell  that  it  is  good  to  have  the  iamc  tempers  in  all  other 
places.  He  that  knows  v/hy  he  fiionld  fpend  any  time 
well,  knows  it  is  never  allowable  to  throw  any  time 
away.  He  thnt  rightly  underftands  the  reafon^blenefs 
of  charity,  will  know,  that  it  can  never  be  excufalile  to 
waftcf  any  of  our  money  in  pride  and  folly,  or  iji  any 
needlefs  expenfes. 

For  every  argument  that  fhev.'s  the  wifdoft-Jiskcf 
charity,  proves  the  w'fdom  of  fpending  our  fortune 
well.  Every  argument  that  provts  the  reafonablenefs 
of  having  times  of  prayer,  fliews  the  reafonablenefs  of 
lofing  none  of  our  time. 

6.  *  If  any  one  can  fliew,  that  v/e  need  rot  always 
aa  as  in  the  divine  prefmce,  that  v/e  need  not  ufe 
every  thing  as  the  gift  cf  God,  that  we  need  rot  al- 
ways live  by  reafon,  and  maHe  religion  the  rule  of 
all  our  anions,  the  fame  arguments  would  Jhev/, 
that  we  need  never  adl  as  in  the  prefence  of  God, 
nor  make  religion  and  reafon  the  meafare  of  any  of  our 
aclions.  If  therefore  we  are  to  live  to  God  at  any  time, 
or  in  any  place,  we  are  to  live  unto  him  at  all  times, 
a:id  in  all  place.-.  If  we  are  to  ufe  any  l>'-ng  as  tiie  gift 
ot  God,  we  are  to  ufe  every  thing  as  his  gift.  If  we  are 
to  do  any  thing  by  ftricl  rules  of  reafon  and  piety,  we 
are  to  do  every  thing  in  the  fame  manner.  Bccaufe 
rea'bn,  and  wifdom,  and  piety,  are  as  much  the  bed 
things  at  all  times,  and  in  all  places,  as  they  are  the 
bed  things,  at  any  time,  or  In  any  place. 

If  It  is  our  glory  and  happinefs  to  have  a  rational  na- 
ture, that  is  endued  with  wifdom  and  reafon,  that  is 
capable  of  imitating  the  Divine  nature,  then  it  mufl  be 
our  glory  and  happmefs  to  improve  our  reafon,  and  wif- 
dom,  to  aa  up  to  the  sxcellenf.y  of  our  rational  nature, 


(     4<.     ) 

and  to  imitate  God  in  all  our  a6lions.  They  therefore 
■^vho  confine  their  religion  to  times  and  places,  and 
fome  little  rules  of  vetirefnent,  who  think  that  it  is  being 
too  flritl  to  introduce  religion  into  common  life,  and 
make  it  give  laws  to  all  their  actions  and  ways  of  living, 
they  who  think  thus,  not  only  miflake,  but  they  mis- 
take the  whole  nature  of  religion,  who  can  think  any 
part  of  their  life  is  more  eafy,  for  being  free  from  it. 
They  may  well  be  fald  to  miftake  the  whole  nature  of 
wifdom,  who  do  not  think  it  defirable  to  be  always 
wile.  lie  has  not  learned  the  nature  of  piety,  who 
thinks  it  too  much  to  be  pious  in  all  his  adions.  He 
does  not  fufiiciently  underftand  what  reafon  is,  who 
does  uot  earntftly  defire  to  live  in  everything  accord- 
ing to  it. 

If  we  had  a  religion  that  confided  in  abfurd  fuper- 
fiitions,  that  had  no  regard  to  the  perfection  of  our  na- 
ture, people  might  well  be  glad  to  have  fome  part  of 
their  l.fe  excufed  from  it.  But  as  the  religion  of  the 
gofpel  is  only  tiie  refinement  of  our  beft  faculties,  as  it 
only  requires  a  life  of  the  hlgheft  reafon,  as  it  only  re- 
quires us  to  ufe  this  world,  as  in  reafon  it  ought  to  be 
ufed,  to  live  in  fuch  tempers  as  are  the  glory  of  intelligent 
beings,  to  walk  in  fuch  wifdom  as  exalts  our  nature, 
and  to  pradife  fuch  piety,  as  will  raife  us  to  God  ; 
who  can  think  it  grievous,  to  live  always  in  the  fpirit 
of  fach  a  religion,  to  have  every  part  of  his  life  full  of 
at,  bat  he  that  would  think  it  much  more  grievous,  to 
be  as  the  angels  of  God  in  heaven  ? 

7.  Farther,  as  God  is  one  and  the  fame  being,  i;U 
v.ays  addling  like  himfelf,  and  fuitahly  to  bis  own  na- 
ture, fo  It  :s  the  duty  cf  every  being  that  he  has  crea- 
ted, to  live  according  to  the  nature  that  he  has  given 
it,  and  alv.:iy:  ■■-  art  like  itfelf. 

It  is  th.fir-ib;  ■  iv.i  immutable  lav.'  oi"  God,  that  all  rati- 
onal beir.^-^  mo'ACi  acl  reafonably  in  aU  their  adtlons  ; 
jiot  at  thTa  time,  or  in  that  place,  or  upon  this  occaH- 
on,  or  in  th-  iiu^  of  fome  particular  thing,  but  at  all 
timsi,  ia  vl!  t:lac  j,  o;i  all  occaiious,  and  u;  the  uie  of 
all  thlnr;?. 


(  ^l  ) 

Wlic«  thert-rorc  any  being  that  is  cn.Iucd  with  rear^ir, 
does  an  unrealbnable  thin^  at  any  tinie,  or  in  any 
place,  or  in  tlie  ule  of  any  thing,  it  fins  againft  the 
great  law  of  its  nature,  and  againfl  Go^,  the  author 
of  that  nature. 

They  therefore  ■vvho  plead  for  any  foolini  faflilons, 
ruf\oms,  and  humours,  for  tine  mifufe  of  our  time,  or 
money,  plead  for  a  rebellion  again (t  our  nature,  for  a 
rebellion  againfl  God,  who  has  given  us  reafon  for 
no  other  end,  than  to  make  it  the  rule  and  mealure  ol* 
all  our  ways  of  life. 

8.  When  therefore  you  are  guilty  of  any  folly,  Oi* 
extravagance,  or  indulge  any  vain  temper,  do  not  con- 
i'lder  it  as  a  fmall  matter,  but  con.fider  it  as  it  is,  aft- 
ing  contrary  to  your  natu.rd,  and  then  you  will  fee  that 
there  is  nothing  fmall,  that  is  uni'cafonable.  Becaufe 
all  unrcafonable  ways  are  contrary  to  the  nature  of  all 
rational  beings. 

The  infirmities  of  human  life  make  fuch  food  and 
raiment  neceffary  for  us,  as  angels  do  not  want  ;  but  it 
is  no  more  allowable  for  ustotuni  thefe  neceffities  into 
follies,  and  indulge  ourfelves  in  the  luxury  of  food,  or 
the  vanities  of  drefs,  than  it  is  allowable  for  angels  to 
atSl  below  the  dignity  of  their  proper  (late.  For  a  rea- 
fonable  life  is  as  much  the  duty  of  all  men,  as  it  is  thi 
duty  of  all  angels.  Thefe  are  not  fpeculative  flights, 
but  plain  and  undeniable  laws,  that,  are  founded  in  th«: 
nature  of  rational  beings,  who  as  fuch  are  obliged  to 
live  by  reafon,  anci  glorify  God  by  a  continual 
right  u^Q  of  their  feveraV  talents.  So  that  thougii 
men  are  not  angels,  yet  they  may  know  by  what 
rules  men  are  to  adl,  by  conlideriiig  the  flate  cf  angel?. 
Our  blelfcd  Saviour  has  plainly  turned  our  thought ; 
this  way,  by  making  this  petition,  "  X'^v  will  be  dorn- 
on  earth,  as  it  is  in  heaven,"  A  plain  proof,  thactlu' 
ob'edicnc«  of  men,  is  to  imitate  the  obedience  of  an- 
gels, and  that  rational  beings  on  earth,  are  \o  live  un- 
to God,  as  rational  beings  in  heaven  live  unto  liim. 

9.  When  therefore  you  wculd  reprefent  to.  your 
mind,  how  Chriflians  owght  to  live  unto  Qoci,  and  by 
•y^hat  degrees  of  wlfdom  and  holinefs.  they  oi\ght  to  ;.' : 


(     42     ) 

the  things  of  this  life,  you  miifl  net  Icok  r.t  the  -worTd, 
but  you  muft  look  up  to  the  fociety  of  angeis,  and 
tlv;.~.k  what  v/ifdom  and  hclinefs  is  fit  to  prepare  you 
for  fuch  a  Rate  of  glory.  You  muft  look  to  all  tde 
highefl  precepts  of  the  gofpel,  you  miifl  examine  your- 
iclf  by  the  fpirit  of  Ghrift,  you  muft  think  how  depart- 
ed fouls  would  live,  if  they  were  again  to  ad.  th?  ihort 
part  of  human  lifs  ;  and  what  degrees  of  wifdora,  ancl 
holinefs,  you  will  wifn  for,  when  you  are  leaving  the 
•world. 

10.  And  as  Chriftianity  confecrates  all  dates  and  em- 
ployments to  God,  as  it  requires  us  to  afpire  after  uni- 
verfal  cbedienc«,  doing  and  uhng  every  thing  as  the 
fervants  of  God,  fo  are  we  more  efpecially  obliged  to 
obferve  this  exadlnefs  in  the  ufe  of  our  eftates  and  for- 
tunes. 

The  reafou  is  plain,  if  we  only  confider,  that  our 
eftate  is  as  much  the  gift  of  God,  as  our  eyes  or  our 
handr>,  and  is  no  more  to  be  buried,  oi  thrown  away  at 
pleafure,  than  we  are  to  pull  out  our  eyes,  or  throw 
away  our  limbs. 

But  befides  this  confidcration,  there  are  feveral  other 
important  reafcns,  why  we  Ihould  be  exaft  in  the  ufe 
of  our  cRates. 

11.  *  Firsts  Becaufe  the  manner  of  ufing  ourmoney» 
enters  fo  far  into  the  bufinefs  of  every  day,  and  makes 
{o  great  a  part  of  our  common  life,  that  our  common  life 
iTiuft  be  much  of  the  fame  nature,  as  our  common  way 
of  fpending  our  ef\ate.  If  reafon  and  religion  govern 
us  in  this,  then  reafon  ajwl  religion  hath  got  great  hold 
of  us  ,  bivt  if  humour,  pride,  and  fancy  are  the  meafures 
of  our  ipending  our  eftate,  then  humour,  pride,  and 
fancy  will  have  the  diredion  of  the  greateH^art  of  our 
life. 

12.  Secondly,  Another  reafon  is,  becaufe  our  money 
is  capable  of  being  ufed  to  the  moft  excellent  purpofes, 
and  is  fo  great  a  means  of  doing  good.  If  we  walle 
it,  we  do  not  wafte  a  trifle,  that  fignifies  little  ;  but  we 
^va(\e  that  which  might  be  as  eyes  to  the  blind,  as  a 
hufband  to  the  widow,  as  a  father  to  the  orphan.  If 
«  man  had  eyes,  and  hands,  and  feet,  that  he  could  give 


(  43  ) 
to  thoFe  that  wanted  them  ;  it"  he  Hioula  cither  leek 
them  up  in  a  cheft,  or  pleafe  hiniftlfwith  fome  ncedlets, 
or  ridiculous  ufe  of  them,  inRead  of  giving  them  to  hi> 
brethren  that  were  hlind  and  lame,  fiionld  we  not  jultly 
reckon  him  an  inhuman  wretch  ?  If  he  fiiould  rather 
chufe  to  amufe  himiclf  with  furnifliing  his  houle  with 
thofe  things,  than  to  entitle  himfelf  to  an  eternal  re- 
v/ard,  by  giving  tliem  to  thofe  that  wanted  eyes  and 
hands,  might  wc  not  juftly  reckon  him  mad  ? 

Now  money  has  very  much  the  nature  of  eyes  and 
f  et ;  if  we  either  lock  it  up  in  chef>s,  or  wade  it  in 
ncedlefs  and  ridiculous  expenfes,  whilfl:  the  poor  and  the 
diQreffed.want  it  for  their  neceffary  ufes  ;  if  we  con- 
fume  it  in  the  ridiculous  ornaments  of  apparel,  whilil 
others  aie  ftarving  in  nakednefs,  we  are  not  far  from  the 
cruelty  of  him  that  chufes  rather  to  adorn  his  houfe  . 
with  the  hands  and  eyes,  than  to  give  them  to  thofe 
that  want  them.  If  we  indulge  ourfelves  in  fucli  ex- 
penfive  enjovments,  to  fatisfy  no  real  want,  rather  than 
to  entitle  ourfelves  to  an  eternal  reward,  by  difpofing 
of  our  money  well,  we  arc  guilty  of  his  madnefs,  that 
rather  chufes  to  lock  up  eyes  and  hands,  than  to  make 
himfelf  for  ever  blcffed,  by  giving  tliem  to  thofe  that 
•want  tliCm. 

1 3.  *  Third!)',  If  we  wafte  our  money,  we  are  not 
only  guilty  of  making  that  ufelefs,  which  is  fo  power- 
ful a  means  of  doing  good,  but  we  turn  this  ufeful  ta- 
lent into  a  powerful  means  of  corrupting  ourfelves  ; 
becaufe  fo  far  as  it  is  fpent  vrrong,  fo  far  it  is  fpent  in 
the  fupport  of  fome  wrong  temper,  in  gratifying  fome 
vain  and  unreafonable  dcfires. 

*  As  wit  and  fine  parts  cannot  be  only  loft,  but  ex- 
pofe  thofe  that  have  them  to  greater  follies,  if  they  arc 
not  ftridlly  devoted  to  piety  ;  fo  money,  if  it  is  not  ufed 
ftriftly  according  to  reafon  and  religion,  cannot  only 
be  trifled  away,  but  it  will  betray  people  into  greater 
follies,  and  make  them  live  a  more  filly  and  extrava- 
gant life,  than  they  would  have  done  without  it*  If, 
therefore,  you  do  ntt  fpend  your  money  in  doing  good 
to  others,  you  mufl  fpend  it  to  the  hurt  of  yourfelf. 
You  will  adt  like  a  man  that   fliould   rcfufe   to  give  a 


(     44     ) 

cordial  to  a  Tick  friend,  thoug-h  he  could  not  drink  it 
himicif  without  In^i  lining  his  blood.  For  this  is  the 
caie  of  iuperfiuo'js  money  ;  if  you  give  it  to  thofc  that' 
v;ant  it,  it  is  :i  cordial  ;  if  you  fpend  it  upon  yourfelf^ 
in  fnniethlng  ih\t  you  do  not  want,  it  only  inflames  and 
diforders  your  mind,  and  makes  you  vvorfe  than  yoa 
AVGuld  be  without  it. 

14.  Confider  again  the  fore-mentioned  comparifon  ; 
if  the  man  that  would  not  make  a  right  ufe  of  fparc 
eyes  and  hands,  flionld,  by  continually  trying  to  ufe 
them  himfelf,  fpoil  his  own  eyes  and  hands,  we  might 
accufe  him  of  ftill  greater  madnefs. 

Now  this  is  truly  the  cafe  of  riches  fpent  upon  our- 
fclves  in  vain  and  needlefs  expcnfes  ;  in  trying  to  ufe 
them  where  they  have  no  real  ufe,  we  only  ufe  them 
to  our  hurt,  in  creating  unreafonable  defires,  in  nou- 
rilhing  ill  tempers,  in  indulging  our  paflions,  and  fup- 
porting  a  vain  turn  of  mind.  For  high  eating  and  drink-' 
ing,  fine  cloth.es,  and  fine  houfes  ftate  aud  equipage, 
gay  pleafures  and  diverfions,  do  all  of  them  hurt  and  dif- 
order  our  hearts  :  they  are  the  food  and  nouriniment 
of  all  the  folly  and  weaknefs  of  our  nature,  and  are  cer- 
tain means  to  make  us  vain  and  worldly  .n  our  tempers  ; 
they  are  all  of  them  the  fupport  ot  fomething,  that 
ought  not  to  be  fupported  ;  they  are  contrary  to  that 
fobriety  of  heart,  which  relifneth  divine  things  ;  they 
are  like  fo  many  weights  upon  our  mind,  that  make  us 
lefs  able,  and  lefs  inclined  to  raife  up  our  thoughts  and 
affcAions  to  the  things  that  are  above. 

So  that  money,  thus  fpent,  is  not  merely  wafled,  but 
fpent  to  bad  purpofes  ;  to  the  corruption  of  our  hearts, 
and  to  make  us  lefs  able  to  live  up  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
gofpel.  It  is  like  keeping  money  from  the  poor,  to 
buy  poifon  for  ourfelves. 

For  lb  much  as  is  fpent  in  the  vanity  of  drefs,  is  fo 
much  laid  out  to  fix  vanity  in  our  minds.  So  much  as 
)3  laid  out  for  idlenefs  und  indulgence,  is  fo  much  given 
to  render  our  hearts  dull  and  fenfual.  So  much  as  is 
jipent  in  flate  and  equipage,  is  fo  much  fpent  to  dazzle 
your  own  eyes,  and  render  you  the  idol  of  your  own 
imagination.     And    fo   in    every    thing,  when   you  go 


'■■ili^^kl,.: 


(     4--     ) 

from  reafonable  wants,  you  only  fupport  feme  nnrea- 
lonable  temper,  Come  turn  of  mind,  which  every  Chrif- 
tian  is  called  upon  to  renounce. 

So  that,  whether  we  confider  our  fortune  as  a  truft 
from  God,  or  the  great  good  that  it  enables  us  to  do,  or 
the  great  harm  that  it  does  to  oiiifelves,  if  idly  fpcnt  ; 
on  all  thefe  accounts  it  is  abfolutely  necelTary  to  make 
rcalon  and  religion  the  nri(Sl  rule  of  ufmg  all  our  fortune. 

15.  Every  exhortation  in  fcripture  to  fatisfy  only 
fuch  wants  as  God  would  have  fatisfied  ;  every  exhor- 
tation to  be  fpiritual  and  heavenly,  prefung  after  a  glo- 
rious change  of  our  nature  ;  every  exhortation  to  love 
our  neighbour  as  ourfelves,  is  a  command  to  be  flridly 
religious  in  the  ufe  of  our  money.  This  ufe  of  our 
worldly  goods,  is  fo  much  the  dodrine  of  the  New 
Teftament,  that  you  cannot  read  a  chapter,  without 
being  taught  fomething  of  it.  I  (hall  only  produce  one 
paffage  of  fcripture,  which  is  fufficient  to  juilify  all  that 
I  have  faid. 

"  When  the  Son  of  man  fhall  come  in  his  glory,  and 
all  his  holy  angels  with  him,  then  he  iTiall  fit  upon  the 
throne  of  his  glory.  And  before  him  fhall  be  gathered 
all  nations  ;  and  he  fliall  feparate  them  one  from  ano- 
ther, a",  a  fltepherd  dividetli  the  flieep  from  the  goats  ; 
and  he  fliall  fet  the  flieep  on  his  right-hand,  but  the 
goats  on  the  left.  Then  fhall  the  king  fay  unto  them 
on  his  right-hand.  Come  ye  blelTed  of  my  father,  in- 
herit the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world  :  fori  was  hungry,  and  ye  gave  me 
meat ;  I  was  thir'ly  and  ye  gave  me  drink  ;  1  was  a 
itranger,  and  ye  took  me  in  ;  naked,  and  ye  clothed 
me  ;  I  was  fick,  and  ye  viOted  me  ;  I  was  in  prifon,  and 
ye  came  unto  me. --.-Then  fhall  he  fay  unto  them  on  the 
left  hand,  Depart  from  me,  ye  curled,  into  everlaOing 
fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels  :  for  1  was 
hungry,  and  ye  gave  me  no  meat ;  1  was  thirlly,  and 
ye  gave  me  no  drink  ;  I  was  a  Granger,  and  yc  took 
n>e  not  in  ;  naked,  and  ye  clothed  me  not  ;  Tick  and  in 
prifon,  and  ye  viQted  me  not.  Thefe  lliall  go  away 
into  everlaRing  puninimen!;,  but  the  ric;hteous  into  l^'e 
etern;U." 


(     45     ) 

16.  I  have  quoted  this  paffage  at  length,  becaufc  if 
one  looks  at  the  way  of  the  world,  cue  would  Imrd- 
ly  think,  that  Chrlftlans  jjad  ever  read  this  foip- 
ture.  Some  people  look'  upon  this  text  only  as  a  gene- 
ral recojnuiendation  of  occafional  works  of  charity  ; 
-whereas  it  (liews  the  necelTity,  not  only  of  occafional 
charities,  but  of  fuch  an  entire  charitable  life,  as  is  a 
continual  exercife  of  all  fuch  works  of  charity  as  we  are 
able  to  perform. 

You  own  that  there  is  no  falvatlon  but  in  the  perform- 
ance of  thefe  good  works.  Who  is  it,  therefore,  that 
may  be  faid  to  have  performed  thefe  good  works  ?  Is 
it  he  that  has  for^etime  a (u fled  a  prifoner,  or  relieved  the 
poor  or  fick  ?  This  would  be  as  abfurd  as  to  fay,  that 
he  had  performed  the  duties  of  devotion,  whohadfome- 
time  fuid  his  prayers.  Is  it,  therefore,  he  that  lias  feve- 
ral  times  done  thefe  works  of  charity  ?  This  can  no  more 
be  faid,  than  he  can  be  faid  to  be  the  truly  juft  man, 
who  has  done  ac\s  of  juftice  feveral  times.  What  is  the 
rule  therefore,  or  meafure,  of  performing  thefe  good 
works  ? 

Now  the  rule  is  very  plain  and  eafy,  and  fuch  as  Is 
common  to  every  other  virtue,  as  well  as  to  charity. — . 
Who  is  the  humble,  or  meek,  or  jufl,  or  faithful  man  ? 
Is  it  he  that  has  feveral  times  done  ads  of  humility,  meekr. 
nefs,  juflife,  or  fidelity  ?  No.  But  it  is  he  that  lives 
in  the  hal^itii:^!  exercife  of  thefe  virtues.  In  like  man-p 
n?r,  he  only  can  be  faid  to  have  performed  thefe  works 
of  charity,  who  lives  in  the  habitual  exercife  of  them  to 
the  utmofl  of  his  power.  He  only  has  performed  the 
duty  of  divine  love,  who  loves  God  with"  all  hi^  heart, 
and  mind,  and  fliength.  And  he  only  has  performed 
the  duty  of  thefe  good  works,  who  has  done  them  with 
rdl  his  heart,  and  mind,  and  flrength.  For  there  is  no 
Qther  mtafure  of  our  doing  good,  than  our  power  of  do- 
ing it, 

i7.  The  apoflle  St.  Pc;ter  puts  this  queflion  to  our 
bltffed  Saviour  ;  Lprd^  hew  oft  shall  my  brother  sin  a- 
gainst  ??zf?,  and  J  forgive  him,  till  seven  times  ^  yesiis 
saith  vnto  him^I saj  not  unto  thee<fUntil seven  times ;  but 
'•  ir.es  sev^n.     Not  as  if  after  this  nuaiber 


(  -t?  ) 

of  cfTciiCf  s,  a  innn  might  then  ceafc  to  forgive  ;  I  ut  the 
expreffion  is  to  fiiew  us,  that  we  are  not  to  bniuid  our 
forgivencfs  by  any  number  of  cffVncv's,  but  are  to  con- 
tinue forgiving  the  nic^  lepeated  c-JTtnceo  agaiiiO  us.  Jf 
therefore,  a  man  ceafes  to  forgive  his  brother,  becaufc  l;e 
has  forgiven  him  often  already  ;  if  he  ..xcufes  hirafelf 
from  forgiving  this  man,  becaufe  he  has  forgiven  feveral 
others  ;  fuch  an  one  breaks  this  law  of  Chrift,  concern- 
ing the  forgiving  one's  brother. 

Now  the  rule  of  forgiving  is  alfo  the  rule  of  giving. 
You  are  not  to  give,  or  do  good  to  feven,  but  to  feventy 
times  fevcn.  You  are  not  to  ceafe  from  giving,  becaufe 
>{ou  have  given  often  to  the  lame  perfon,  or  to  other 
perfons  ;  but  muft  account  yourfelf  as  much  obliged  to 
continue  relieving  thofe  that  continue  in  want,  as  you 
was  obliged  to  relieve  them  once  or  twice.  Had  it  not 
been  in  your  power,  you  had  been  excufcd  from  reliev, 
ing  any  perfon  once  ;  but  if  it  is  in  your  power  to  relieve 
people  often,  it  is  as  much  your  duty  to  do  it  often,  as 
it  is  the  duty  of  others  to  do  it  but  feldom,  becaufe 
they  are  but  feldom  able. 

18.  And  the  reafon  of  all  this  is  plain;  there  is 
the  fame  neceflity  of  being  charitable  atone  time,  as  at 
another.  It  is  as  much  the  befl  ufe  of  our  money,  to. 
be  always  doing  good  with  it,  as  it  is  the  beft  ufe  of  It 
at  any  particular  time  ;  fo  that  that  which  is  a  reafon  for 
a  charitable  adtion,  is  as  good  a  reafon  for  a  chgiritable 
life  ;  for  charity  has  nothing  to  recommend  it  to-day, 
but  what  will  be  the  fame  recommendation  of  it  to- 
morrow ;  and  you  cannot  neglect  it  at  ojie  time,  with- 
out being  guilty  of  the  fame  Tin,  as  if  y^u  negk^ted  it 
at  another  time. 

As  fure,  therefore,  as  tbefe  works  of  charity  arc  nc- 
ceffary  to  falvation,  fo  fure  is  it  that  we  are  to  do  them 
to  the  utmoft  of  our  power  ;  not  to-day,  or  to-morrow, 
but  through  the  whole  eourfe  of  our  life.  If  therefore  it 
be  our  duty  at  any  time  to  deny  ourfelvcs  any  needlefs 
cxpenfes,  that  we  may  have  to  give  to  thofe  that  want, 
it  is  as  much  our  daty  to  do  fo  at  all  times,  that  we  may 
be  able  to  do  more  good  :  For  if  it  is  at  any  time  a  fin 
to  prefer  needlefs  cxpenfes,  to  vrorks  of  charity,  it  is  fo 


(     48     ) 

at  all  times.  If  it  is  ever  neceffary  to  take  care  of  thefe 
works  of  charity,  and  to  fee  that  we  make  ourfelves  in 
fome  degree  capable  of  doing  them  ;  it  is  as  necelTary 
to  take  care  to  make  ourfelves  as  capable  as  we  can  be, 
of  performing  them  in  all  the  parts  of  our  life. 

19.  Either  therefore  you  mult  fay,  that  you  need  ne- 
ver perform  any  of  thefe  good  works  ;  or  you  muft  own, 
that  you  are  to  perform  them  all  your  life  in  as  high  a 
degree  as  you  are  able.  There  is  no  middle  way,  any 
r.^.ore  than  there  is  a  middle  way  between  temperance 
and  intemperance.  If  you  do  not  flrive  to  fulfil  all  cha- 
ritable works,  if  you  negledl  any  of  them  that  are  in 
your  power,  let  it  be  when  it  will,  or  where  it  will, 
you  number  yousfelf  amongft  thofe  that  want  Chriftian 
charity  ;  becaufe  it  is  as  much  your  duty  to  do  good 
with  all  that  you  have,  as  it  is  your  duty  to  be  temper- 
ate in  all  that  you  eat  or  drink, 

20.  Hence  appears  the  neceility  of  renouncing  all  thofe 
foolilh  and  unreafonable  expenfes,  which  the  folly  of 
mankind  has  made  fo  common  and  falhionable  in  the 
world.  For  if  it  is  neceffary  to  do  good  works  as  far 
as  you  are  able,  it  mull  be  as  neceffary  to  renounce  thofe 
needkfs^ways  of  fpending  money,  which  render  you 
unable  to  do  works  of  charity. 

You  mud  therefore  no  more  conform  to  thefe  ways 
of  the  world,  than  you  muft  conform  to  the  vices  of 
the  v/orld.  You  muft  no  more  fpend  with  thofe  that 
idly  wafte  their  money  as  their  own  humour  leads  them, 
than  you  muft  drink  with  the  drunken  ;  becaufe  a  courfe 
of  fuch  expenfes  is  no  more  confiftent  with  a  life  of  cha- 
rity, than  excels  in  drinking  is  confiftent  with  a  life  of 
fobriety,  When  therefore  any  one  tells  you  of  the  law- 
fuln^fs  of  expenfive  apparel>  or  the  innocency  of  pleaf- 
ingyourlelf  with  coftly  fatisfadtions,  only  imagine  that 
the  fame  perfon  was  to  tell  you,  that  you  need  not  do 
works  of  charity  ;  that  Ghrilt  does  not  require  you  to 
do  good  unto  your  poor  brethren,  as  unto  him  ;  and 
then  you  will  fee  the  wickednefs  of  fuch  advice  :  For, 
to  tell  you,  that  you  may  live  in  fuch  expenfes,  as 
make  it  impoflible  for  you  to  live  in  the  exercife  of 
good  works,  is  the  fame  thing  as  teHing  you,  that  yon 


(     49     ) 

reed  not  have  any  care  about  fucli  good  woiks  th^m' 


iclves. 


CHAP.     VI. 


Hoio  the  imprudent  use  of  an  estate  corrupts  all  the 
tempers^  and  Jills  the  heart  rjith  poor  and  ridiculous 
passions  ;  represented  in  the  character  of  Flavia, 

1.    TT  hat;    already   been    oblerved,    that    a    religions 

X  care  is  to  be  ufed  in  the  manner  of  Ipending 
cur  money  or  eflate  ;  becaufe  the  manner  of  fpending  our 
eftate  makes  fo  great  a  part  of  our  common  life,  and  is 
fo  much  the  bufinefs  of  every  day,  that,  according  as 
\ve  are  wife  or  imprudent  in  this,  the  whole  courfe  of 
our  lives  will  be  wife,  or  full  of  fully. 

Ptrfons  that  receive  inflrudlions  of  piety  with  pleafure, 
often  wonder  that  they  make  no  further  progrefs  in  that 
religion  which  they  fo  much  admire. 

Now  the  reafon  is  this  :  Religion  lives  only  in  their 
head,  but  fomething  elfe  has  pcffeiTion  of  their  hearts  ; 
and  therefore,  they  continue  from  year  to  year  mere  ad- 
mirers and  praifers  of  piety,  without  ever  coming  up  to 
its  precepts. 

2.  If  it  be  afked,  why  religion  does  not  get  poffc.Tioii 
of  their  hearts  ?  It  is  not  becaufe  they  live  in  grofs  fins, 
or  debaucheries  ;  but  becaufe  their  hearts  are  conltantly 
employtd,  perverted,  and  kept  in  a  wrong  flate,  by  the 
indifcreet  ufe  of  fuch  things  as  are  lawful. 

The  ufe  and  enjoyment  of  their  eftates  is  lawful,  and 
therefore  it  never  comes  into  their  heads  to  imagine  any 
danger  from  that  quarter.  They  never  reflccSt,  that 
there  is  a  vain  and  imprudent  ufe  of  their  eflates  :  which, 
though  it  does  not  deltroy  like  grufs  (ins,  yet  fodiforders 
the  heart,  and  fupports  it  in  fuch  ftnfuality  and  culnefs, 
as  makes  it  incapable  of  receiving  the  life  and  fpirit  of 
piety. 

For  our  fouls  may  be  rendered  incapable  of  all  virtue, 
•merely  by  the  ufe  of  innocent  and  lav/ful  things. 
E 


(     50     ) 

3.  What  is  more  innocent  than  reft  ?  And  yet  \v!:at 
3iiore  dangerous  tluin  /loth  and  idlenefs  ?  What  is  more 
lawful  than  eating  and  drinking  ?  And  yet  -what  n-.ore 
deflruclive  of  all  virtue,  and  fruitful  of  all  vice,  thau 
fcniuality  ? 

Now  it  is  for  want  of  exadlnefs  in  the  ufe  of  thefe 
innocent  and  lawful  things,  that  religion  cannot  get  pof- 
fellion  of  our  hearts.  And  it  is  in  the  right  management 
of  ourftlves,  as  to  thefe  things,  that  the  art  of  holy  liv- 
ing chiefly  confifts. 

4.  Grofs  fins  are  plainly  feen,  and  eafily  avoided  by 
peribns  that  profefs  religioa.  But  the  indifcreet  and  dan- 
gerous ufe  of  innocent  and  lawful  things,  as  it  does  not 
ihock  our  confciences,  fo  it  is  difficult  to  make  people  at 
ail  fenfible  of  the  danger  of  it. 

A  gentleman  that  expends  all  his  eflate  in  fports.  and 
a  woman  that  lays  out  all  her  fortune  upon  hcrfelf,  can 
liardly  be  perfuaded  that  the  fpirit  of  religion  cannot 
Uibdll  in  fuch  a  way  of  life. 

Thefe  perfons  may  live  free  from  debaucheries  ;  they 
may  be  friends  of  religion,  fo  far  as  to  praifc  and 
fpeak  well  of  it;  but  it  cannot  govern  their  hearts,  and 
be  the  fpirit  of  their  actions,  till  they  change  their  way 
of  life. 

For  a  woman  that  loves  drefs,  that  tliinks  no  expenfe 
too  great  to  bellow  upon  the  adorning  of  her  pcrfon, 
cannot  ftop  there  ;  for  that  temper  draws  a  thoufand  other 
follies  along  with  it,  and  will  rer.der  the  whole  courfe 
of  her  life,  her  bulinefs,  her  converfation,  her  hopes,  her 
fears,  her  tafte,  her  pleafures,  and  diverfions,all  fultable 
to  it. 

5.  *  Flavia  and  Miranda  are  two  maiden  filters  that 
have  each  of  them  two  hundred  pounds  a  year.  They 
buried  their  parents  twenty  years  ago,  and  have  fincc 
that  time  fpent  their  eftate  as  they  pleafed. 

*  Flavia  has  been  the  wonder  of  all  her  friends,  for 
her  excellent  management,  in  making  fo  furprlfing  a 
figure  in  fo  moderate  a  fortune.  Several  ladies  that 
have  twice  her  fortune,  are  not  able  to  be  always  fo 
genteel,  and  fo  conflant  at  places  of  pleafure  and  ex- 
penfe.    She  has  every  thing  that  is  in  the  faihion,  and 


^'J  fe'. 


•e 


(    51    ) 

is  in  every  place  \vliere  there  is  any  diverfion.  Flavia 
is  very  orthodox,  flic  talks  warmly  rijjainfi:  heretics  and 
fchifmatics,  is  generally  at  chvirch,  and  often  at  the  ia- 
cramt^nt.  Shi  once  commended  a  fermon  that  was 
againfl  the  vanity  of  drefs,  and  tiionght  it  was  vt-ry  juft 
ag-ainft  Lucinda,  whom  (he  takes  to  be  a  great  deal  fii.- 
er  than  P.ie  need  be.  If  any  one  ailcs  Vlavia  to  do  fome- 
thing  in  charity,  if  flie  likes  the  peiTon  that  makes  the 
propofal,  or  happens  to  be  in  a  right  temper.  Hie  %vi;l 
tofs  him  half  a  crown  or  a  crown,  ar.d  tell  him,  if  Iss 
knew  what  a  long  millinej-'s  bill  Hie  hnd  jud  received,  he 
would  think  it  a  great  deal  for  bt-r  to  give.  A  quarter 
of  a  year  after  tliis,  fhe  hears  a  ferm  n  np:m  the  ntcefTity 
of  charity;  flie  thinks  the  man  preaches  well  ;  that  it 
is  a  very  proper  fubjecl  ;  that  people  want  much  to  bs 
put  in  mind  of  it  ;  but  Ihe  applies  nothing  to  hciT-lf, 
becaufe  (he  remembers  that  flis  gave  a  crown  i^a.Lcime 
ago,  when  Hie  could  fo  ill  fpare  it. 

6.  As  for  poor  people  themfelves,  flie  v/ili  admit  of 
no  complaints  from  them  ;  (he  is  very  poiUive  they  are 
all  cheats  and  liars,  and  will  fay  any  thing  to  get  re- 
lief ;  and  therefore  it  mufl  be  a  fin  to  encourage  them 
in  their  evil  v/ays. 

You  would  thiiik  Flavia  had  the  tendered  confciejice 
i.j  the  woi  Id,  if  you  were  to  fee  how  fcrnpulous  (he  is  of 
the  guilt  and  danger  of  giving  amifs. 

7.  She  buys  all  books  of  wit  and  humour,  and  has 
m.ide  an  expentlve  coHe£lion  of  all  oar  KngliPa  poets. 
For  file  fays,  one  cannot  have  a  true  talle  of  any  of 
toem,  v/ithout  being  converfant  with  tl>em  all. 

She  will  fometimes  read  a  hook  of  piety,  if  it  is  a  (liort 
cnc.  If  it  is  much  commtndcd  for  R)  le  and  language, 
and  (he  can  tell  where  to  borrow  it, 

Flavia  is  very  idle,  and  yet  very  fond  of  Hue  work. 
7'his  mak'is  her  often  fit  working  in  bed  until  nocn,  and 
be  told  many  a  long  ftory  before  Ihe  is  up  ;  fo  th?.t'  I 
need  not  tell  you  her  morning  devotions  iuc  not  always 
rightly  performed, 

Fkivia  would  be  a  miracle  of  piety,  if  flic  was  but 
half  fo  careful  of  her  foul,  as  (he  is  of  her  body.  The 
rding  of  a   pimple  in  her  face,  the   iVing  of  a  gnat,   wdl 


(     52     ) 

inake  her  keep  her  room  two  or  three  days,  snd  Hie. 
thinks  they  'are  >;ery  raih  peojJe  that  do  not  take  care 
rf  ihings  in  I'nv.e.  Tills  makes  her  To  over  careful  of 
her  healih,  that  fhe  never  thinks  flie  is  well  enough  ; 
and  fa  over  inciiilgent,  that  flie  can  never  be  really  well. 
So  that  it  coflsher  a  great  deal  in  fleeping-draughts  and 
waking-draugtus,  In  ipirits  for  the  head,  in  drops  for  the 
nerves,  in  cordials  for  tke  fiomach,  and  in  faiOfron  for 
her  lea. 

8.  If  you  vifit  Flavla  on  the  Sunday,  you  will  always 
meet  good  company,  you  will  know  what  is  doing  in  the 
world,  you  will  hear  the  laft  lampoon,  be  tcld  who  wrote 
it,  and  v/ho  is  meant  by  every  name  that  is  in  it.  You 
will  hear  what  plays  v/ere  acted  that  week,  which  is 
the  fineil:  long  in  tiie  opera,  who  was  intolerable  at  th.e 
laTi  afTembly,  and  what  games  are  mofl  in  fafliion,  Fla- 
via  thinks  they  are  Atheifts  that  play  at  cards  on  the 
Sunday,  but  Hie  will  tell  you  the  nicety  of  all  the  games, 
v>' hat  cards  fiie  held,  how  (he  played  them,  and  the  hif- 
tory  of  all  that  happened  at  play,  as  foon  as  flie  comc.-j 
from  church.  IF  you  would  kr.ov/  who  is  rude  and  ill- 
natured,  who  is  vain  and  foppilh,  wiio  lives  too  h.igh, 
and  who  is  in  debt  ;  it  you  would  know  what  is  the 
quarrel  at  a  r"rt?/in  hiOiifc,  cr  vv^ho  aiid  who  are  in  love; 
if  you  would  knov.'  how  late  Belinda  ccmes  home  at 
I. "''■lit,  Vr^'it  c!m*:'!?s  ip.e  has  bougl.t,  hew  {lie  loves  coni- 
\A\-'r.\\:.  .;nd  ^•.  !r.i:  a  long  ftuvy  flic  told  at  fLich  a 
ph.ivr  ;  ),' ycj,  Vv'culJ  kn.ovr  h.ov/  crofi  [,uciu3  is  to  his 
vv-.i't-.  V ':.:  i'hnatured  things  he  fays  to  her,  when  no- 
body hi'Lji  him  ;  if  you  would  kno-.v  how  they  hate  one 
3i>other  in  their  hearts,  though  they  appear  ib  kind  in 
public  ;  you  nuiPt  viiit  Flavia  on  the  Sunday.  But  ftill 
nie  has  [o  great  a  regard  for  the  holin§fs  of  the  day, 
that  ihe  ha-;  t'jrned  a  poor  old  widow  out  of  her  houfe, 
as  a  prophane  vrretch,  for  having  been  found  once  mend* 
inghcr  clvclie-:  on  the  Suiiday  night. 

Tiiui  live?  h''.' ."i.i  ;    r.nd  if  (he  lives  ten  years  longer, 

fliC  v/til  lia\e  ipeni  about  fifteen  hundred  and  fixty  Sun- 

'  days  ari-sr  tins  m..naer.     She  will  have  woni  about  two 

luindred   different  falls  of  clothes.      Out   of  this  thirty 

years  of  her  life,  fifteen  of  them  will  have  been  difpofovl 


(    s-    ) 

of  in  bed,  and  oftlie  remaining  fifteen,  about  fourtefii 
of  thein  v;lll  have  been  cor. fucied  in  eating,  drinkinp^, 
drelTing,  vilking,  conveifation,  reading  and  hearing 
phiys  and  romances,  at  operas,  affemblies,  balls  and  di- 
verfions.  For  you  may  reckon  all  tlie  time  fbe  is  up 
tlius  fpent,  except  about  an  hour  and  half,  ihat  is  dif- 
pofcd  of  at  church,  mod  Sundays  in  the  year.  With 
great  i^^anagement,  and  under  mighty  rules  of  oecono- 
my,  file  will  have  fpent  Hxty  hundred  pounds  upon  her- 
fcli,  bating  only  feme  fiiiliii:>gs,  crowns,  or  halt-crowns, 
that  have  gone  from  her  in  accidental  charities. 

9.  I  fliall  not  take  upon  me  to  fay,  that  it  is  impof- 
jEble  for  Flavia  to  be  faved  ;  but  thus  much  muft  be 
faid,  that  her  whole  life  is  In  direcfl  oppvofition  to  ;-ll 
thofe  tempers  and  practices,  which  the  goipel  has  made 
necelTary  to  falvation. 

*  If  you  were  to  hear  her  fay,  that  file  had  lived  a:l 
her  life  like  Anna  the  propbetefs,  ii>  ho  departed  not  from 
the  temple^  but servedGod  nvilli fastings andpi'aytrs  nigiic 
and  day t  you  would  look  upon  her  as  very  extravagant  ; 
and  yet  this  would  be  no  greater  an  extravagance,  than 
for  her  to  fay  that  ibe  had  been  striving  to  enter  in  at  the 
strait  gates  or  making  any  one  dotlriue  of  the  gofpel 
a  rule  of  her  life. 

*  She  may  as  well  fay,  that  fiie  lived  with  our  Savi- 
our when  he  was  upon  earth,  as  that  fiie  has  lived  ia 
imitation  of  hi  jr.,  or  made  it  any  part  of  her  care  to 
live  in  fuch  tempers,  as  he  required  of  ail  thole  that 
■would  be  his  diiciples.  She  may  as  truly  fay,  that  fi-e 
lias  every  day  waihed  the  faints  feet,  as  that  ilie  lived  in 
Ghrifrian  humility  and  poverty  of  fpint  ;  and  as  reafona- 
biy  think,  that  flie  has  taught  a  charity  fciiool,  as  that 
file  has  lived  in  works  of  charity.  She  has  as  n.uch  reafon 
to  think,  that  flie  has  been  a  centinel  in  an  army,  ad 
that  file  lived  in  watching  and  felf-denial.  And  it  may 
as  fairly  be  faid,  that  fiie  lived  by  the  labour  of  i;ur 
hands,  as  that  {i\^  had  given  all  diligence  to  make  her 
calling  and  election  sure, 

10.  And  here  it  is  to  be  well  cbferved,  that  ilie  poor, 
vain  turn  of  mind,    the  folly  and  vanity  cf  this    v*hoie 
life   of  Flavia,  is  all  owing  to  the  manuer  of  ufmg  Iw: 
E  3 


« 


(     S4     ) 

eftaie.  It  u  tfls  that  has  formed  her  fpirit,  that  has 
gnf^n  l:i--  :o  <;ve!y  idle  temper,  that  has  fupported  every 
trifiiug  pj.llion,  ar.d  kept  her  from  all  thoughts  of  a  pru- 
de n  ■: ,  i\  1  e  f  u  1 ,   a  n  d  devout  1 ';  fe . 

Whfrn  her  parents  died,  Oic  liad  no  thoughts  about 
her  t\vo  hundred  pounds  a  year,  but  that  (he  had  io 
inuch  money  to  do  what  (he  would  with,  to  fpeiid  up- 
on herfelf.  and  purchafe  the  pleafures  and  gratifications 
of  all  her  paffions. 

And  it  is  this  fetting  out,  this  falfe  judgment  and 
indifcreet  ufe  of  her  fortinia,  that  has  filled  her  whole 
life  with  the  fame  indifcretion,  and  kept  her  from 
thinking  of  what  is  right  and  wife,  and  pious  in  every 
thing  elfe. 

If  you  have  i^tcn  her  delighted  in  plays  and  romances, 
in  fcandal  and  backbiting,  eafily  flattered  and  foon  affront- 
ed ;  if  you  have  feen  her  devoted  topleafures  and  diver- 
fions,  a  ilave  to  every  paffion  in  its  turn,  nice  in  every- 
thing that  concerned  her  body  or  drefs,  carelel's  of  every 
thing  that  might  benefit  her  foul,  always  wanting  fome 
new  entertainment,  and  ready  for  every  happy  inven- 
tion, in  fliew  or  drefs,  it  was  becaufe  fhe  had  purchafed 
all  thefe  tempers  with  her  yearly  revenue. 

1  1.  She  might  have  been  humble,  ferious,  devout,  a  lover 
of  good  books,  an  admirer  of  pj  syer  and  retirement,  care- 
ful of  her  time,  diligent  in  good  works,  full  of  charily  and 
the  love  of  God  ;  but  that  the  imprudent  ufe  of  her  ef- 
tate  forced  all  the  contrary  tempers  upon  her. 

And  it  was  no  wonder  that  Ihe  Ihould  turn  her  time^ 
her  mind,  her  health,  and  ftrength  to  the  fame  ufes  that 
iht  turned  her  fortune.  It  isownig  to  her  being  wrong; 
in  fo  great  an  article  of  life,  that  you  can  fee  nodung 
•wife,  or  pious,  in  any  other  part  of  it. 

12.  And  as  Flavia  is  undone  by  the  unreafonable  ufe 
of  her  fortune  ;  fo  the  lownefs  of  moft  people's  virtue, 
the  imperfcttions  of  their  piety,  and  the  diforders  of  their 
palTions,  are  generally  owing  to  theitr  imprudent  ufe  of 
lawful  things. 

More  people  are  kept  from  a  true  fenfe  of  religion, 
by  a  regular  kind  of  fenluality,  than  by  grofs  drunkenncfs* 
More  men  live  regardlefs  of  the  great  duties  of  piety, 


(  -  ) 

through  too  n-reat  a  concern  for  workily  goods,  than 
through  direft  injuflice, 

13.  This  man  would  perhaps  be  devout,  if  he  was 
not  a  Virtuc'fo.  Another  is  deaf  to  all  the  motives  to 
piety,  by  indulging  an  idle,  flotiiful  temper. 

Could  you  cure  this  man  of  his  curiofity  and  inquifiti  ve 
temper,  or  that  of  his  falle  fatisfaftion  and  thirft  after 
learning,  you  need  do  no  more  to  make  them  both  be- 
come men  of  great  piety. 

If  this  woman  would  make  fewer  vifits,  or  that  not 
be  always  talking,  they  would  neither  of  them  find  it 
hard  to  be  aifsdted  with  religion. 

Would  we  therefore  make  a  real  progrefs  in  religion, 
we  mu{\  not  only  abhor  grofs  and  notorious  fins  ;  but  re- 
gulate the  innocent  and  lawful  parts  of  our  behaviour, 
and  put  the  common  adlions  of  life  under  tiie  rules  of 
difcrction  and  piety. 


CHAP.     VII. 


HoTJ  the  iVise  and  pious  use  of  an  Estate  carrieth  us  to 
all  the  virtues  of  tht  Christian  Life  ;  represented  in  the 
character  of  Miranda, 

1.  "]\/riRANDA  (the  fiRer  ofFlavia)  is  a  fober.  rea- 
JJf_L  fonable  Chriftian.  As  foon  as  Ihe  was  miflrefs 
of  her  time  and  fortune,  it  was  her  firll  thought  how  fhe 
might  ben  fulfil  every  thing  that  God  required  of  her  in 
the  \\\t  of  them,  anii  make  the  beftuie  of  this  fhort  life. 
She  depends  upon  the  truth  of  what  our  bleffed  Lord 
hath  faid,  that  there  is  but  one  thing  needful  ;  and  there- 
fore makes  her  whole  life  but  one  continual  labour  after 
it.  She  has  but  one  reafon  for  doing,  or  not  doing,  for 
liking  or  not  liking  any  thing  ;  and  that  is,  tiie  will  of 
God.  She  is  not  fo  weak  as  to  pretend  to  ailA.,  what 
is  called  the  fine  lady,  to  the  true  Chriftian  ;  Miranda 
thinks  two  well,  to  be  taken  with  the  found  of  fuch  filiy 
words.  She  has  renounced  the  work),  to  follow  Ghritt 
in  the  exercife    of  humility,    charity,    devoiion,  abfti- 


(     S6     ) 

nence,  and  heavenly  affedions  ;  and  that  Is  Miranda's 
fine  breed! lig. 

Whilfl  (he  was  under  her  mother,  fhe  was  forced  to  live 
in  ceremonj,  to  fit  up  late  at  nights,  to  be  in  the  folly  of 
evtry  fafiiion,  to  go  loaded  with  finery  to  the  holy  fa- 
crament,  to  be  in  every  polite  converfation,  tohearpro- 
phnnencfs  at  the  play-houie,  and  wanton  fongs  and  love 
intrigues  at  the  opera,  to  dance  at  public  places,  that 
fops  and  rakes  might  admire  the  finenefs  of  her  fliape, 
and  the  beauty  of  her  motions.  The  remembrance  of 
this  way  of  life,  makes  her  exceeding  careful  to  main- 
tain a  contrary  behaviour. 

2.  Miranda  does  not  divide  her  duty  between  God, 
her  neighbour,  and  herfelf ;  but  fiie  confiders  all  as  due 
to  God,  and  fo  does  every  thing  for  his  fake.  This 
makes  her  confider  her  fortune  as  the  gift  of  God,  that 
is  to  be  ufed  as  every  thing  is  that  belongs  to  God,  for 
the  wife  and  reafonable  ends  of  a  Chriftian  life.  Her 
fortune  therefore  is  divided  betwixt  herfelf  and  feveral 
other  poor  people,  and  fl)e  has  only  her  part  of  relief 
from  it.  She  thinks  it  the  fame  folly  to  indulge  herfelf 
in  needlefs  expenfes,  as  to  giveto  other  oeople  to  fpend 
in  the  fame  way  ;  therefore,  as  fhe  will  not  give  a  poor 
man  nioney  to  go  fee  a  pupptft  fliow  ;  neither  will  flie 
•allow  herfL'lf  any  to  fpend  in  the  fame  manrier,  think- 
iiig  it  very  proper  to  be  as  wife  herfelf  as  flie  eX|-)e6^s 
poor  men  Oiould  be.  For  is  it  a  folly  and  a  crime  in  a 
poor  m.^.n,  fays  Miranda,  to  wait?  what  is  given  him  in 
trifles,  whilft  he  wants  meat,  drink,  and  clothes  ?  And  is 
it  lefs  folly,  or  alefs  crime  in  me,  to  fpend  that  money 
in  iilly  diverfions,  which  might  be  fo  much  better  fpent 
in  imitation  of  the  divine  goodnefs,  in  worksof  kindnci's 
to  my  fellow-creatures  ?  If  a  poor  man's  own  neceiTities 
are  a  reafon  why  he  (hould  not  wafte  any  of  his  money 
idly,  iuf-ely  the  nect  tTities  of  the  poor,  and  the  excellency 
of  charity,  is  a  much  greater  reafon  why  no  one  fiiould 
waire  any  of  his  money.  For  if  he  does  fo,  he  does 
not  only  like  the  poor  man,  waIre  that  which  he  wants 
hhr.felf;  but  he  waftcs  that  which  is  wanted  for  the 
mod  noble  ufes,  and  which  Chiift  himfelf  it;  ready  to  re- 
ceive at  kis  hands.     And  if  we  are  angry  at  a  poorman, 


(     57     ) 

^vhcn  he  throws  away  that  which  Oiouli  buy  his  owit 
bread,  how  iriurt  we  appear  In  the  fight  of  God,  if  we 
make  a  wanton  idle  ufe  of  that  which  would  buy  bread 
nnd  clothes  for  our  hungry  and  naked  brethren,  who  are 
as  near  and  dear  to  God  as  we  are,  and  fcUow-helrs  of 
the  fame  glory  ?  This  is  the  fpirit  of  Miranda  ;  (lie  is 
only  one  of  a  certain  number  of  poor  people  that  are  re- 
lieved out  of  her  fortune  ;  and  (lie  only  differs  from 
them  in  the  blcffednefs  of  giving;. 

3.  If  you  was  to  fee  her,  you  would  wonden  Avhat 
poor  b(  tiy  it  was,  that  was  fo  furprifingly  neat  and  clean. 
She  has  but  une  rule  in  her  drcfs,  to  be  always  clean,  and 
in  the  cheapefi  things.  Every  thing  about  her  refcn^blcs 
the  purity  of  her  foul  ;  and  fhe  is  always  clean  withcutj 
becaufe  flie  is  always  pure  within. 

Every  morning  fees  her  early  at  her  prayeis.  She 
rejoices  in  the  beginning  of  every  day,  becaufe  it  be- 
gins all  her  rules  of  iioly  living,  and  brings  the  frefli 
pleafiue  of  repeating  them.  She  is  as  a  guardian  angel 
to  thofe  that  dwell  about  her,  with  her  watchings  and 
prayers,  bleffing  t\\t  place  where  fiie  dwells,  and  mak- 
ing inievccfTion  wllh  God  for  thofe  that  are  allsep. 

Htr  devotions  have  had  fovne  interval-:-,  befcte  th'2 
light  is  fuffert-d  to  enter  into  ler  frin's  re  om.  Miran- 
da does  not  knov7  what  it  is  to  have  a  dull  half-day  ; 
tlie  returns  of  her  hours  of  praytr,  and  her  rtligious  ex- 
ercifes,  con^.e  too  often  to  h/t  any  conliderablc  pait  of 
time  lie  heavy  upon  her  hands. 

4.  When  ycu  fee  her  at  work,  you  fee  the  fame  wif- 
di-.m  tliat  governs  all  her  other  ailions.  She  is  either 
doing  fomething  that  is  ucceffary  for  herfclf,  or  ntcef- 
fary  fir  ctliers  whov/aut  to  be  aififled.  There  is  fcarce 
;i  poor  family  in  the  neighbourhood,  but  wears  fome- 
thing or  other  that  has  had  the  labour  of  her  hands. 
Her  pious  mind  neither  wants  the  amufement,  nor  can 
bear  with  the  folly  of  idle  and  impertinent  work. 
When  there  is  no  ufeful  or  charitable  work  to  be  done, 
jMiranda  will  work  no  more. 

At  her  table  fne  lives  ftri<flly  by  this  rule  of  holy 
fcripture,  nvh'^t/ierje  eat  or  drink,  or  vjJiatsocDerye  d.)^ 
do  all  totherlorv  of  God.     This  mikes  her  be^ni  and 


(     ^3      ) 

end  every  n?al,  as  (lie  begins  and  ends  every  da^-, 
with  acf\;i  of  clevoti;)n..  She  eatsHiid  drinks  only  ibr  the 
fake  of  living,  and  witli  fo  regular  aK  abfhnence,  that 
e>'ery  p.iea!  is  an  exercife  of  lelf-denial.  If  Miranda  was 
to  run  a  race  for  her  I>fe.  fhe  would-  fubmit  to  a  diet 
tliat  was  pro|v^r  {or  it  ;  but  as  the  race  which  is  fet  be- 
fore her,  is  a  race  of  kolinefs  and  heavenly  afleclion, 
which  flie  is  to  fmifh  in  a  diibrdered  body  of  earthly 
palilons  ;  fo  her  every  day  dij^-t  has  this  one  end,  to 
make  Iier  body  fitter  for  this  fpiritual  race.  She  docs 
not  weigh  her  meat  in  a  pair  of  fcales  ;  but  flie  weighs 
it  in  a  much  better  balance  :  fo  much  as  gives  a  proper 
flrength  to  her  body,  and  renders  it  able  and  willing-  to 
obey  the  foul,  to  join  in  pfalmsand  prayers,  and  lift  up 
eyes  and  hands  towards  heaven  v;ith  greater  readiaefs, 
fo  much  is  Miranda's  meal.  So  that  Miranda  will  never 
have  her  eyes  fwell  with  fatnefs,  till  llie  has  changed 
her  religion.  • 

'  5.  The  holy  fcvlptures,  efpeclally  of  the  New  Tefia- 
ment,  are  her  daily  fludy  ;  thefe  file  reads  with  a 
watchful  a'.tciuion,  conftantly  cafling  an  eye  upon  her- 
fv'li,  and  trying  lieifelf,  by  every  doctrine  thai  is  there. 
When  file  has  the  New  I'efiament  in  her  ^h;ir,dj  fl;e 
f.ippofes  herfelf  at  the  feet  cf  our  SaNiowr  and  his  apo- 
frlcr-.  ;  and  makes  every  thing  tlut  file  learns  oi  ihe\ri  io 
many  lav.s  of  her  life.  She  vecei\es  their  v>c; cs  with 
as  much  r.ttenticn  snd  leverence,  as  if  fhe  fiw  their 
perfons,  and  knev/  that  tiiey  v.ere  juil  come  from  hea- 
ven, on  pnjpoie  to    teach  htrr   the  w  uy  that  leads  to  it. 

She  thinks  that  the  tryiiig  herfelf  every  day  ly  the 
fcripture,  is  the  or'ly  way  to  be  ready  for  her  trial  at 
the  laft  day. 

Of  all  human  wiitings,  the  lives  of  pious  pcrfons,  and 
eminsnt  i";d;t^,  are  her  greatell  delight.  In  thefe  Qie 
fearch;  5  a-,  fu-  h.i-.iJen  trealure,  hoping  to  find  fome  fe- 
cret  of  lioly  I'.viiig,  fon^e  uncon";i>icn  cegrt-e  of  piety, 
v/jiich  fiie  may  make  her  own.  By  .this  means  Miran- 
da has  her  head  an<i  heart  flored  with  all  the  principles 
of  v\ri{'dom  and  hoiinefs.  She  i.5  fo.  full  of  the  one  bufi- 
nefs  of  life,  that  fiie  finds  it  diSlcul'c  to  converfc  upon  , 
finy  othirr  fubjecl  ;   and  if  you  are  in  licr  company,  yea 


(     59     ) 

inuft  be  n-,acie  wiiVr  niul  better,   ^v^ether  ycu  \vill  or  no. 

6.  To  relate  her  charity,  would  be  to  relate  the  hif- 
tory  of  tvtiiy  clay  for  twenty  years  ;  for  fo  long  has  all 
her  fortune  been  i\tu\,  that  way.  She  has  fet  up  near 
twenry  poor  traclelmen  that  had  failed  in  their  bufutfs, 
and  favtd  as  many  from  failing.  She  has  educated  fe- 
veral  poor  children,  that  were  picked  up  In  the  flreets, 
and  put  them  in  an  honeft  employment.  As  foon  as 
<iny  labourer  is  confined  at  home  with  any  ficknefs,  flie 
fends  him,  till  he  recovers,  twice  the  value  of  his  wa- 
ges, that  he  may  have  one  part  to  give  to  his  family, 
as  ufual,  and  the  other  to  provide  tilings  convenient 
for  his  ficknefs. 

If  a  family  feems  too  large  tp  be  fupported  by  the 
Inbourcf  thofc  that  can  work  in  it,  fhe  pays  their  rent, 
and  gives  them  fomething  yearly  towards  their  cloth- 
ing. By  this  m.eans  there  are  many  poor  families  that 
live  in  a  comfortable  manner,  and  are  from  year  to 
year  blelling  her  in  their  prayers.  If  there  is  any  poor 
man  or  woman  that  is  more  than  ordinary  wicked, 
Miianda  has  her  eye  upon  them  :  fne  watches  their 
time  of  adverfity  ;  and  if  flie  can  difcover  they  are  in 
Oraits  or  aifli(ftionj  flie  gives  them  fpeedy  relief.  She 
has  this  care  for  this  fort  of  people,  becaufe  flie  once 
faved  a  profligate  perfon  from  being  carried  to  prifon, 
■vvho  immediately  became  a  true  penitent. 

7.  Ther<5  is  nothing  in  the  charadler  of  Miranda 
more  to  be  admired  than  this  temper.  For  this  tender- 
nefs  towards  the  moft  abandoned  fmners,  is  the  highell 
inftance  of  a  god-like  foul. 

Miranda  once  pafTed  by  a  houfe,  where  the  man  and 
his  wife  were  curfing  and  fwearing  at  one  another  in  a 
moft  dreadful  manner,  and  three  children  crying  a- 
bout  them.  This  fight  fo  much  affedled  her  compaffi- 
onate  mind,  that  (he  went  the  next  day  and  bought 
the  three  children,  that  they  might  not  be  ruined  by 
living  with  fuch  wicked  parents.  They  now  live  with 
Miranda,  are  blefled  with  her  care  and  prayers,  and 
all  the  good  works  which  flie  can  do  for  tliem.  They 
hear  her  talk,  they  fee  her  live,  they  join  with  her  in 
pfalms  and  prayers.     The    eldeft  of  them   has  already 


(     60     ) 

converted  his  parents  from  their  wicked  life,  ai)d  iliews 
a  turn  of  mind  fo  remarkably  pious,  that  Mi'-anda  in- 
tends him  for  holy  orders  :  that  being-  thus  {aved  him- 
fclf,  he  may  do  to  other  mircrable  olDJeds,  as  Tae  nas 
done  to  him. 

Miranda  is  a  conftant  relief  to  poor  pro/ie  i'"  their 
misfortunes  and  accidents..  There  are  fometimes  irctle 
misfortunes  that  happen  to  them,  which  of  themfelves 
they  could  never  be  able  to  overcome.  The  deach  of  a 
cow,  or  a  horfe^or  fome  little  robbery,  would  keep  them 
in  diRrefs  all  their  lives.  She  docs  not  fufferthem  to 
grieve  under  fuch  accidents.  She  ijrimediatcly  gives 
them  the  full  value  of  their  lofs,  and  makes  ufe  of  it  as 
a  means  of  raifing  their  minds  to  God. 

She  has  agreat  tendernefs  for  old  people  that  are  pad 
their  labour.  The  parifli  allowance  to  fuch  is  feldom  a 
comfortable  maintenance.  For  this  reafon  they  are  the 
conftant  objeds  of  her  care.  She  adds  fo  much  to  their 
allowance,  as  fomewhat  exceeds  the  wages  they  got 
v/hen  they  were  young.  Thi&  flie  does  to  comfort  the 
infirmities  of  their  age,  tliat,  being  free  from  trouble, 
they  may  ferve  God  in  peace.  She  has  generally  a  large 
number  of  this  kind,  who,  by  her  charities  and  exhorta- 
tions, fpend  their  laft  days  in  great  piety. 

9.  Miranda  never  wants  compafTion,  even  to  common, 
beggars  ;  efpecially  thofe  that  are  old  or  fick,  or  that  want 
eyes,  or  limbs.  She  hears  their  complaints  wrih  tender- 
iiefs,  gives  them  fome  proof  of  her  kindnefs,  and  never 
rcjeds  them  with  hard  or  reproachful  language,  for  fear 
of  adding  affliction  to  her  fellovz-creatures. 

If  apoor  traveller  tells  her,  that  he  has  neither  ftrength, 
nor  food,  nor  money  left,  fhe  never  bids  him  go  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  came,  or  tells  him  that  Ihe  can- 
not relieve  him,  becaufe  he  may  be  a  cheat,  and  (lie 
does  not  know  him  ;  but  flie  relieves  him  for  that  rea- 
fon, becaufe  he  is  a  ftranger,  and  unknown  to  her.  For 
it  is  the  moll  noble  part  of  charity,  to  be  kind  to  thofe 
whom  we  never  faw  before,  and  perhaps  never  may  fee 
again  in  this  life.  I  was  a  stranger^  2.ndje  took  me  in^ 
faith  our  bltlTcd  Saviour  ;  but  who  can  perform  this  du- 
ty, that  will  net  relieve  perlbns  that  are  unknown  to 
him  t 


(  PJ  ) 

,  Miranua  confiders,  that  Lazarus  was  acotniflVja  h'f*' 
gar  ;  that  he  was  the  care  of  angels,  and  carried  into 
Al)raham's  bofom.  She  confiders,  tliat  our  bleffcd  Sh- 
vlonr  and  his  apoftles  were  kind  to  boggars  :  that  they 
Ipokc, comfortably  to  them,  heakd  their  dlfeafes,  and 
rcftored  eyes  and  limbs  to  the  blind  and  lame;  that 
Peter  fdid  to  the  beggar  tliat  wanted  an  alms  from  hinn 
Silver  artel  gold  have  I  none^  but  such  as  I  hase,  give  I 
.  thee  ;  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  of  Nazareth ^  rise  up 
andivalk»  Miranda  therefore  never  treats  beggars,  with 
difregard  and  avcrfion,  but  imitates  the  kindnefs  of 
our  Saviour  and  his  apoflles  towards  them  ;  and  though 
fhe  cannot,  like  them,  work  miracles  for  their  relief, 
yet  Ihe  relieves  them  Avith  that  pov/er  that  Ihe  hath  ; 
and  may  fay  with  the  apollle,  such  as  I  have^  give  I 
thcc^   in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ, 

It  may  be,  fays  Miranda,  that  I  may  often  give  to. 
thafc  that  do  not  deferve  it,  or  that  will  make  an  ill  ufc 
of  my  alms.  But  what  then  ?  Is  not  this  the  very  me- 
thod of  divine  goodnefs  ?  Does  not  God  make  his  sun 
to  rise  on  the  evil,  and  on  the  good  ?  Is  not  this  the  very 
goodneis  that  is  recommended  to  us  in  fcripture,  that  by 
imitating  of  it,  we  may  be  children  of  our  Father  which 
is  ia  heaven,  who  send&th  rain  en  the  just  and  on  the  un- 
just ?  And  (hall  I  withhold  a  little  money  or  food  fron\ 
my  fellow-creature,  for  fear  he  fhould  not  be  good 
enough  to  receive  it  of  me  ?  Do  I  beg  of  God  to  deal 
with  me,  not  according  to  my  merit,  but  according  to 
his  own  goodnefs  ;  and  fliall  I  be  fo  abfurd,  ag 
to  withhold  my  charity  from  a  poor  brother,  becaufe 
lie  may  perhaps  not  deferve  it  ?  fliall  1  ufe  a  meafure 
towards  him,  which  I  pray  God  never  to  ufe  towards 
me  ? 

Befides,  where  has  the  fcripture  made  merit  the  rule 
or  Efieafure  of  charity  ?  On  the  contrary,  the  fcrip- 
ture faith,  if  thj  enemy  hunger,  feed  him,  if  he  thirsty 
give  him  drink. 

Now  this  plainly  teaches  us  that  the  merit  of  perfons 

is  to  be  no  rule  of  our   charity,  but  that  we  are  to  do 

a6ls  of  kmdnefs  to  thofe  that  leaft  of  all  deferve  it.   For 

it  I  am  to  love  and  do  good  to  my  worft  enemies  j  not- 

F 


(     62     ) 

wlth'ftanding  all  their  fpite  and  malice,  furely  merit  is  no 
rHeafure  of  charity.  If  I  am  not  to  withhold  my  cha- 
rity from  fuch  bad  people,  furely  I  am  not  to  deny  alms 
to  poor  beggars,  whom  I  do  not  know  to  be  bad  peo- 
ple. 

11.  You  will  perhaps  fay,  that  by  this  means  I  en« 
courage  people  to  be  beggars.  But  the  fame  thoughtlefs 
objection  may  be  made  againft  all  kinds  of  charities, 
for  they  may  encourage  people  to  depend  upon  them. 
The  fame  may  be  faid  againft  forgiving  our  enemies, 
for  it  may  encourage  people  to  do  us  hurt.  The  fame 
may  be  faid  even  againft  the  goodnefs  of  God,  that  by 
pouring  his  bleflings  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good,  on  the 
juft  and  on  the  unjuft,  evil  and  unjuft  men  are  encourag- 
ed in  their  wicked  ways.  The  fame  may  be  faid  againft 
clothing  the  naked,  or  giving  medicines  to  the  fick, 
for  that  may  encourage  people  to  negledl  themfelves, 
and  be  carelefs  of  their  health.  But  when  the  love  of 
God  dwelleth  in  you^  and  has  filled  you  with  bowels  of 
mercy,  you  will  make  no  more  fuch  objeftions  as  thefe. 
When  you  are  at  anytime  turning  away  the  poor,  the 
old,  the  fick  and  hclplefs  traveller,  the  lame,  or  the  blind, 
alk  yourfelf  this  queftion,  Do  I  fincerely  wifh  thefe  poor 
creatures  may  be  as  happy  as  Lazarus,  that  was 
carried  by  angels  into  Abraham's  bofom  ?  Do  I  fin- 
cerely defire  that  God  would  make  them  fellow- 
heirs  with  me  in  eternal  glory  ?  Now  if  you  fearch  into 
your  foul,  you  will  find  that  there  is  none  of  thefe  mo- 
tions there,  that  you  are  wifhing  nothing  of  this.  For 
it  is  impoiCble  for  any  one  heartily  to  wifli  a  poor  crea- 
ture fo  great  a  happinefs,  and  yet  not  have  a  heart  to 
give  him  a  fmall  alms.  For  this  reafon,  fays  Miranda, 
as  far  as  I  can,  I  give  to  all,  becaufe  I  pray  to  God  to 
forgive  all  ;  and  I  cannot  refufe  an  alms  to  thofe  whom 
I  pray  God  to  blefs,  whom  I  wifti  to  be  partakers  of 
eternal  glory;  but  am  glad  to  (hew  fome  degree  of  love 
to  fuch,  as,  I  hope,  will  be  the  objefts  of  the  infinite 
love  of  God.  And  if,  as  our  Saviour  has  afTurcd  us,  it 
b€  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive^  we  ought  to  look 
upon  thofe  that  afkour  alms,  as  fo  many  friends  and  be- 
nefa<Stor5,  that  come  to  do  us  a  greater  goodr^han  they 


(     63     ) 

can  receive  ;  that  come  to  be  wltneiTcs  of  ourtharltyi 
to  be  monuments  of  our  love,  to  appear  for  us  at  tlie  day 
of  judgment,  and  to  lielp  us  to  a  blelTcanefs  greater 
than  our  alms  can  beftow  on  them. 

12.  This  is  the  fpirit,  and  this  is  the  life  of' ?.liran- 
da  ;  and  if  Hie  liv^es  ten  years  longer,  fhe  will  have  fpent 
fixty  hundred  pounds  in  charity  ;  for  that  which  Hie  al- 
lows herielf,  may  fairly  be  reckoned  amongd   her  ahns. 

When  fhe  dies,  flie  muft  (bine  araongft  apoftlesT  an4 
faints,  and  martyrs  :  fhe  mult  fland  amongft  the  firft  ier- 
■vants  of  God,  and  be  glorious  amongft  thole  that  have 
fought   the  good   light,  and  finiflied  their  courfe  with 

j°>'*        .  .     .  .        . 

IS.  Nov;   this  life  of  Miranda,    however  contrary  to 

the  fafhion  of  the  world,  is  yet  fuitable  to  the  true  fpi- 
rit of  chriflianity. 

To  live  as  fhe  does,  is  as  truly  fuitable  to  the  gof- 
pel  of  Chrift,  as  to  be  baptil'ed,  or  receive  the  facrament. 

Her  fpirit  is  that  which  animated  the  faints  of  for- 
mer ages  ;  and  it  is  becaufe  they  lived  as  fhe  does,  that 
we  now  celebrate  their  memories,  and  praife  God  for 
their  examples. 

Their  is  nothing  whimfical,  trifling,  or  unreafonable 
in  her  charadler  :  but  every  thing  there  defcribed,  is  a 
proper  in  Ranee  of  folid  piety. 

14.  It  is  as  cafy  to  fnew,  that  it  is  whimfical  to  go 
to  church,  as  that  it  is  whimfical  to  obfcrve  any  of 
thefe  rules.  For  all  Miranda's  rules  of  living  to  God, 
of  fpending  her  time  and  fortune,  of  eating,  working, 
drefiing,  and  converfing,  are  as  fubftantial  parts  of  an 
holy  life,   ag  devotion  and  prayer. 

For  there  is  nothing  to  be  faid  for  the  wifdom.  of  de- 
votion, bwt  what  is  as  good  an  argument  for  the  wife 
and  rcafonable  ufe  of  apparel. 

If  you  fancy  thatit  is  your  only  folly,  and  that  there- 
fore there  can  be  no  great  matter  in  it  ;  you  are  like 
thofe  that  chink  they  are  only  guilty  of  the  folly  of  co- 
vetoufnefs  or  ambition.  Now  though  fome  people  may 
live  lb  plaufible  a  life,  as  to  appear  chargeable  with  no 
other  fault  than  covetoufnefs  or  ambition  ;  yet  the  cafe 
is    not    as  i:    appears,    for    covetoufnefs    or   ambitiow 


(     64     ) 

cannot  fubfi-fi  in  a  heart  that  is  in  other  refpe^s  rightly 
devoiefl  to  God, 

In  like  manlier,  though  people  may  fpend  moft 
thac  tliey  have  in  needkfs  ornaments,  and  yet  ieem  in 
orl.er  relpe<Jls  truly  pious,  yet  it  is  certainly  falfe  ;  for 
it  rs  iinpoilible  for  a  mind  that  is  in  a  true  flate  of  re- 
ligion, CO  be  vain  in  the  life  of  clothes.  Now  to  con- 
vinte  you  of  this,  let  us  fuppofe  that  fome  eminent  faint, 
for  inftance  the  virgin  Mary  was  fent  into  the  world  for 
a  few  years,  and  that  you  was  going  to  her  to  be  edi- 
fied by  her  piety,  would  you  expeft  to  find  her  dreffed 
out, and  adorned  in  fine  and  expenfive  clothes  ?  No.  You 
would  know  in  your  own  mind,  that  it  was  as  impoffi- 
ble  as  to  find  her  learning  to  dance.  Do  but  add  faint, 
or  holy,  to  any  perfon,  either  man  or  woman,  and 
your  own  mind  tells  you  immeJlatelvi  that  fuch  a  cha- 
ladler  cannot  admit  of  the  vanity  of  fine  apparel.  A 
faiiit  finely  drelTed,  is  as  great  nonfenle,  as  an  apoiUe  in 
an  embroidered  fuit.  Every  one's  own  natural  fcnfe  con- 
vinces hitn  of  the  inconiiftency  of  thefe  things. 

15.  Now  what  is  the  reafon,  that  when  )'ou  think  of 
a  faint,  you  cannot  aiimit  fhe  vanity  of  apparel  ?  Is  it 
not  becaufe  it  is  inconfijlent  v;ith  fuch  a  right  ftate  of 
heart?  And  is  not  this  a  demonlb  ation,  that  where  fuch 
vanity  is  admitted,  there  a  right  Hate  of  heart  is  want- 
ed ?  For  as  certainly  as  the  virgin  Mary  could  not  in- 
dulge iierieir,  or  conform  to  the  vanity  of  the  world  in 
dreis  and  figure  ;  fo  certain  is  it,  that  none  can  indulge 
then^fclves  iii  this  vanity,  but  thofe  who  want  her  pitty 
<jf  ivjart  ;  and  confec^uently  it  muft  be  owned,  that  all 
neeulefs  and  expeniive  finery  is  the  eticct  of  a  dilordercd 
heart. 

Covetoufnefs  is  not  a  crime,  becaufe  there  is  any  harm 
in  gold  or  iilver  ;  but  becaufe  it  is  a  fcolifli  and  unrea- 
fo;:a:jk  {ta:e  or"  muid,  tiiar  is  fallen' from  its  true  good, 
aiid  luiik  iiiiu  fuc'i  ■}  poor  and  wretched  fatista^tion. 

In  l-JvC  lii.uiu':!-,  i!ic  txpcnfive  finery  of  dreis  is  not  a 
crinic,  bcCduie  tiiere  ':5  any  thing  good  or  evil  in  clothes, 
buL  becaufe  the  exp:n!liv>.-  ornaments  of  clothing  (hev/s 
a  ioiMtii  a'vJ  •.:i),r-'.'.v."rsr.'!c  \t?.ie  of  heart,  that  is  fallen  from 


(     C5     ) 

richt  notions  of  human  nuture,  p.nd  turns  tlie  necciricles 
of  lite  into  lb  manv  inllances  cf  p:ldvi  iind  foily. 

17.  This  therefore  h  the  way  that  you  are  to  ju'J;;e 
of  the  crime  of  vain  apparfl  :  it  is  an  ofi'ence  ag.iiiifl  the 
proptr  ufe  of clotiies,  as  covetoufnels  is  an  offcrnce  a!^-ainft 
the  proper  life  of  money  :  it  is  an  iriClul:>enc:e  of  proud 
and  uiircMfonable  tempers,  an  offence  aguinR  tfie  humility 
and  fobri-ctv  of  the  Chriftian  fjirit  :  it  is  an  ofi'.nce  a- 
gainfl  all  thofe  cI.o(Strines  that  require  you  to  do  all  to  tie 
p;lory  of  God,  and  an  cffl^nce  againfl:  all  thofe  textj  r;f 
fcr'iptui-e,  that  command  you  to  love  your  nei|;-hbrur  as 
yourfclf,  to  feed  the  hungry,  to  clothe  the  naked,  and 
do  all  works  of  charity  that  you  are  able.  So  that  yru 
mufl  not  deceive  yoiufclf  with  faying-,  where  can  b^ 
the  harm  of  clothes  ?  For  the  covetous  man  mijin  as 
well  fay,  where  can  be  the  harm  of  gold  or  filver  r  Eut 
you  mud  confidcr,  that  it  is  a  great  deal  of  harm  to 
want  that  wife  and  reafonable  (late  of  heart,  v.hich  is 
according  to  the  fpirit  of  religion,  and  wliicli  iio  one 
can  have  in  the  manner  that  he  ought  to  have  it,  who 
indulges  himfclf  either  in  the  vanity  of  drcfs,  or  the  de- 
fire  of  riches. 

18.  Some  perfons  perhaps,  who  adirire  the  life  of 
Miranda,  may  fay.  How  can  it  be  propofcd  as  a  com- 
mon example  ?  How  can  we  that  are  mj:rr'"d,  or  we 
who  are  under  the  direction  of  our  parents,  ir.nic-.t.-  l.ich 
a  life  ? 

It  is  anfwered,  jufT:  as  you  may  imitate  the  life  of 
our  bleffed  Saviour  and  his  apoflles.  The  ci)  cumf:ahces 
of  our  Saviour's  life,  and  the /tate  and  conoit  ca  of  his 
apofUeS;  Averc  more  different  from  yours,  tlian  iiut  of 
Miranda  is  ;  and  "yet  their  li^e  is  the  common  example 
that  is  propofed  to  all  Chriflians. 

It  is  their  fpirit  therefore,  their  piety;  their  love  of 
God,  thit  you  are  to  imitate,  and  not  the  particular 
form  of  their  life. 

Act  under  God  as  they  did,  dire6l  your"  common  ac  = 
tions  to  that  end  which  they  did,  pruclHe  fuch  lovj  of 
(jod,  fuch  charity  to  your  neighbour,  fuch  haiiility 
and  felf-denial,  as  they  did  ;  and  tnen,  though  you  are 
only  teaching  your  own  cinldren,  and  2^  Pa:.i  is^  con- 
F  2  •  . 


(     66     ) 

verting   nations,   yet  you    are  following   his  (leps,  and 
ailing  afctr  his  example. 

19.  Do  not  think  therefore,  that  you  cannot  or  need 
not  be  like  Miranda,  becanfe  you  are  not  in  her  ftate  of 
life;  for  as  the  fame  Ipirit  and  temper  would  have 
made  Miranda  a  faint,  though  (he  had  been  i\>rced  to 
labour  for  a  maintenance  ;  fo  if  you  will  afpire  after 
her  fpirit,  every  condition  of  life  will  furnifti  you  witli 
fufficient  means  of  employing  it. 

Miranda  is  what  fhe  is,  becaufe  ihe  does  every  tiling 
in  the  name,  and  with  regard  to  her  duty  to  God  ;  and 
>vhen  you  do  the  fame,  you  will  be  exaftly  like  her, 
though  you  are  never  fo  different  in  your  outward  flate. 

You  are  married,  you  fay  ,  therefore  you  have  not 
your  time  and  fortune  in  your  power  as  Ihe  has. 

It  13  true  ;  therefore  you  cannot  fpend  fo  much  time, 
nor  fo  m.UGh  money,  in  the  manner  (lie  does. 

But  Miranda's  perfeftion  does  not  confift  in  this,  that 
/he  fpend.  fo  much  time,  or  fo  much  money  in  fuch  a 
manner,  but  that  (he  is  careful  to  make  the  befl  ufc  of 
all  the  time  and  money  which  (lie  has.  Do  you  this, 
and  then  you  are  like  Miranda. 

If  flie  has  two  hundred  pounds  a  year,  and  you  have 
only  two  mites,  have  you  not  the  more  reafon  to  be  ex-p 
ceeding  exacl  in  the  wifeft  ufe  of  them  ?  If  {he  has  a 
great  deal  of  time,  and  you  have  but  a  little,  ought 
you  not  to  be  the  more  watchful  and  circumfpecl,  lell 
that  little  Ihould  be  loft  ? 


C  H  A  P.     VIII. 


She%vjn^  that  all  orders  of  men  and  women^  of  allageSy 
are  obliged  to  devote  themselves  to  God, 

1,  X  HAVE  in  the   foregoing  chapters  fhewn  that  all 
^  the   parts  of  our  common  life,  our  employments, 
our  talents  and  fortune,  are  to  be  made  holy  and  accept- 
able unto  God,  by   a  wife   and   religious    ufe   of  every 


(   6r   ) 

thing,  and  l)y  dlredling  our  a<Slior.3  and  defigTiS  to  the 
glory  of  God. 

I  (hall  now  fliew,  that  this  l^ollnefs  of  common  life, 
this  religions  life  of  every  thing  wc  have,  is  a  devotion 
that  is  the  duty  of  all  orders  of  (>hviflian  people. 

*  Fulvius  has  had  a  learned  education,  and  taken  his 
degrees  in  the  univerfity  ;  lie  canie  from  thence,  that 
he  migiit  be  free  from  any  rnles  of  life.  He  takes  no 
employment  upon  liim  nor  enters  into  any  bufinefs,  be- 
caufe  he  thinks  that  every  employment  or  bufinefs  calh 
people  to  the  juft  difcharge  of  its  feveral  duties.  He 
did  not  enter  into  holy  orders,  becaufe  he  looks  upon 
it  to  be  a  ftate  that  requires  great  holinefs  of  life,  and 
it  does  not  fuit  his  temper  to  be  fo  good.  He  will  tell 
you  that  he  never  intends  to  marry,  becaufe  he  cannot 
oblige  himfelf  to  that  regularity  of  life,  which  he  takes 
to  be  the  duty  of  thofe  that  are  at  the  head  of  a  family. 
He  refufed  to  be  godfather  to  his  nephew,  becaufe  he 
■will  have  no  truft  of  any  kind  to  anfwer  for. 

Fulvius  thinks  that  he  is  confcicnticus  in  this  condu£^, 
and  is  therefore  content  with  the  moft  idle,  impertinent, 
and  carelefs  life. 

He  has  no  religion,  no  devotion,  no  pretences  to  pi- 
ety. He  lives  by  no  rules,  and  thinks  all  is  very  well, 
becaufe  he  is  neither  a  prieft,  nor  a  father,  nor  a  guar- 
dian, nor  has  any  employment  or  family  to  look  after. 

2.  *  But  Fulvius,  you  are  a  rational  creature,  and 
as  fuch,  are  as  much  obliged  to  live  according  to  reafoii, 
as  a  prielT:  is  obliged  to  attend  at  the  altar,  or  a  guar- 
dian to  be  faithful  to  his  truft  ;  if  you  live  contiary  to 
reafon,  you  do  not  commit  a  fmall  crime,  you  do  not 
bi^ak  a  fmall  trufl  ;  but  you  break  the  law  of  nature, 
you  rebel  againft  God  who  gave  you  that  nature,  and 
put  yourfclf  amongft  thofe  whem  the  God  of  reafon  will 
puniih  as  apoflates  and  deftrters. 

Though  you  have  no  employment,  yet  as  you  are 
baptifed  into  the  profeflion  of  Chrift's  religion,  you  are 
as  much  obliged  to  live  according  to  tlie  holinefs  of  the 
Chrillian  fpirit,  as  any  man  is  obliged  to  be  honeil  and 
faithful  in  his  calling.  If  you  abufe  this  great  calling, 
j'ou  are  not  falfe  in  a  fmall  ma'tter,  but  you  abufe  the 


(      68     ) 

pre:!(;L:s  IjIoocI  Ox^  Clirlil:  ;  you  crucify  the  Son  of  God 
•ciiVc'^ii  ;  you  noglecl  the  hlgiicfl:  inftances  of  divuie  j>-ood- 
iirf?  ;  and  it  will  be  more  tolerable  for  Tyre  and  Sidon 
a!;  ths  day  of  judgment^  t/utn  for  you, 

3.  It  is  therefore  gi'eai  foiiy  fur  any  one  to  think  hini- 
felf  at  liberty  to  Lvc  as  he  pleafes,  becaufe  he  is  not 
in  fuch  a  flute  of  life  as  fome  others  are  :  for  if  there 
is  any  thing  dreadful  in  the  ahnfe  of  any  ti-uft  ;  if  there 
is  any  t'^in^  to  be  feared  for  the  neglect  of  any  calling  ; 
there  is  nothing  more  to  be  feared  than  the  wrong  ufe 
of  our  reafon,  nor  any  thing  more  to  be  dreaded,  than 
the  neglect  of  our  Chriftian  calling  ;  which  is  not  to 
ferve  the  little  ufes  of  a  fliort  life,  but  to  redeem  fouls 
i.nto  God,  to  fill  heaven  with  faints,  and  furnifh  a  king- 
dom of  eternal  glory. 

No  man  therefore  muft  think  himfelf  excufed  from 
the  exatS^nefs  of  piety,  becaufe  he  has  chofen  to  be  idle 
and  independent  in  the  world  ;  for  the  necefiities  of  a  holy 
life  are  not  founded  in  the  feveral  conditions  of  this 
life,  but  in  the  immutable  nature  of  God  and  the  na- 
ture of  man.  A  man  is  not  to  be  reafonable  and  holy, 
becaufe  he  is  a  priefl,  or  a  father  of  a  family  ;  but  he  is 
to  be  a  pious  prieft,  and  a  good  father,  becaufe  piety 
and  goodnefs  are  the  laws  of  human  nature.  Could 
jiny  man  pleafe  God,  without  living  according  to  reafon 
and  order,  there  would  be  nothing  difpleafing  to  God 
in  an  idle  priefl,  or  reprobate  father.  He  therefore 
thatabufes  his  reafon,  is  like  him  that  abufes  the  prieft- 
hood  ;  an^  hs  that  neglefts  the  holinefs  of  the  Ghriftian 
life,  is  as  the  man  that  difregards  the  moft  important 
traft. 

4.  If  a  man  was  to  chufe  to  put  out  his  eyes,  rather 
than  enjoy  the  light,  and  fee  the  works  of  God  ;  if  he 
lliould  voluntary  kill  himfelf,  by  refufing  to  eat  and 
drink,  every  one  would  own  that  fuch  u  one  was  a  re- 
bel agdinft  God,  that  juflly  deferved  his  highell  indig- 
!iation.  You  would  not  fay,  that  this  was  only  finful 
in  a  pried,  or  a  nralter  of  a  family,  but  in  every  man 
a. 3  fuch. 

Now  wherein  docs  the  finfalnefs  of  this  behaviour 
conuft  r   Jl^oea  it  not   confiil  in  this,  that  he  abufes  his 


(     69     ) 

Hntuie,  find  refulcs  to  a<fl  tUat  part  for  which  God  had 
created  him  ?  But  if  this  be  true,  tlien  all  perfons  that 
abule  their  reafon,  that  adl  a  dilTerent  part  from  that 
for  which  God  created  them,  are  like  this  man,  rebels 
againd  God,  and  on  the  fame  account  fubjecl  to  his 
■vvrath. 

5.  *  Let  us  fnppofe  that  this  man,  inflead  of  putting- 
cut  his  eyes,  had  only  employed  them  in  looking  at 
ridicul®us  tilings,  or  (hut  them  up  in  deep  ;  that  inftead 
of  Itarving  himfelf  to  death,  by  not  eating  at  atl,  he 
fI\ould  turn  every  meal  into  a  fcafl:,  and  eat  and  drink 
like  an  epicure  ;  could  he  be  faid  to  have  lived  more 
to  the  glory  of  God  ?  Could  he  any  more  be  faid  to 
adl  the  part  for  which  God  had  created  him,  than  ifhe 
had  put  out  his  eyes,  and  fla'rved  himfelf  to  death  ? 

Now  do  but  fuppofe  a  man  extinguifliing  his  reafon, 
inftead  of  putting  out  his  eyes,  and  living  in  a  courfe  of 
folly  and  impertinence,  inftead  of  ftarvlng  himfelf  to 
death,  and  then  you  have  found  out  us  great  a  rebel 
again  ft  God. 

6»  *  If  we  confider  mankind  as  a  redeemed  order  of 
fallen  fpiritSv  that  are  baptiled  into  a  fellowihip  with  the 
Son  of  God  ;.  to  be  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghoft  ;  to 
live  according  to  his  holy  infpiration3  ;  to  offer  to  God 
the  reafonable  facrifice  of  an  humble,  pious,  and  thank- 
ful life  ;  to  purify  themfelves  from  the  dlforders  of  their 
fall  ;  to  make  a  right  ufe  of  the  means  of  grace,  in  or- 
der to  be  fons  of  eternal  glory  :  if  we  lock  at  mankind 
in  this  true  light,  then  we  Ihall  find,  that  all  tempers 
that  are  contrary  to  this  holy  fociety  ;  all  adtions  that 
make  us  unlike  to  Chrift,  have  every  thing  in  them 
that  can  make  us  odious  to  God.  So  that  tliough  pride 
and  fenfuality  do  not  hurt  civil  fociety  ;  as  cheating  and 
didjonefty  do  ;  yet  they  hurt  that  fociety,  and  oppofe 
thofe  ends,  which  are  greater  and  more  glorious  in  the 
eyes  of  God,  than  all  the  focieties  that  relate  to  this 
world. 

7.  *  Nothing  therefore  can  be  move  foolifti,  than  to 
imagine,  that  becaufe  we  are  private  perfons,  who  have 
taken  upon  us  no  charge  or  employment,  therefore  v/e 
n,ay    live  moix  at    large,  indulge  our  appetites,  and  be 


(     7'^     ) 

lefs  careful  of  hollnefs  ;  for  it  is  as  good  an  exciife  for 
cheating  and  didionefliy.  Becaufehethat  abufeshisreafbn, 
that  indulges  bimfelf  in  lull  and  fenfuality,  and  neglefts 
to  a6l  the  v/ife  and  reafonable  part  of  a  ChviRian,  has 
every  thing  in  his  life  to  render  him  hateful  to  God, 
that  is  to  be  found  in  cheating  and  difhonefty. 

If  therefore  you  rather  chufe  to  be  an  idle  epicure, 
than  to  be  unfaithful  ;  if  you  rather  chufe  to  live  in  lufl 
arid  fenfuaJity,  than  to  injure  your  neighbour  in  his 
goods,  you  have  made  no  better  a  provifion  for  the  fa- 
vour of  God,  than  he  that  rather  chufcs  to  rob  a  houfc, 
than  to  rob  a  church. 

For  the  abufing  of  our  own  nature,  is  as  great  a  dif- 
obedience  againft  God,  as  the  injuring  our  neighbour  ; 
and  he  that  wants  piety  towards  God,  has  done  as 
much  to  damn  himfelf,  as  he  that  wants  honefty  to- 
wards men. 

8.  Another  argument  to  prove  that  all  orders  cf  men 
are  obliged  to  be  thus  holy  in  the  common  courfe  of 
their  lives,  iu  the  ufe  of  every  thing  that  they  enjoy, 
may  be  taken  from  our  obligation  to  prayer. 

It  is  granted,  that  prayer  is  a  duty  that  belongs  to 
all  dates  and  conditions  of  men.  Now,  if  we  entjuire, 
why  no  Hate  of  life  is  to  be  excufe'd  from  prayer,  we 
fhall  find  it  as  good  a  reafon,  why  every  ftate  of  life  is 
to  be  made  a  fliate  of  holinefs  in  all  its  parts. 

For  the  reafon  why  we  are  to  pray  to  God,  and 
praife  him  with  hymns  and  pfalms  of  thankfgiving,  is 
becaufe  we  are  tc)  live  wholly  to  God,  and  glorify  him 
in  all  poflible  ways.  It  is  not  becaufe  the  praifes  of 
"Vvords,  or  forms  of  thankfgiving,  are  more  particularly 
p:irts  of  piety,  or  more  the  worfhip  of  God  than  other 
things  ;  but  it  is  becaufe  they  are  poifible  ways  of  ex- 
preirmg  our  dependence,  our  v.Ledience  and  devotion 
to  God.  Now,  if  this  be  the  reafon  of  verbal  praifes 
and  thankfgivings,  becaufe  we  are*  to  live  unto  God  in 
all  poifible  ways  ;  then  we  are  equally  obliged  to  glorify 
God  in  all  other  anions  that  can  be  turned  into  aCls  of 
piety  and  obedience.  And  as  aclions  are  of  much 
jiiore  fignificancy  than  words,  it  muft  be  a  much  more 
Steceptable    worlhip  of  God,  to  glorify   him  in   all  the' 


(    n    ) 

^(fllohs  of  our  common   life,  than  with  any  little  form 
of  words  at  amy  particular  times. 

Thus,  if  God  is  to  be  worfliipped  with  forms  of 
thankfgiving,  he  that  is  content  and  thankful  in  every 
accident  of  his  life,  becaufc  it  comes  from  God, 
praifes  God  in  a  much  higher  manner,  than  he  that 
has  fome  fet  time  for  frnging  of  pfalms.  He  that  dares 
not  fay  an  ill-natured  word,  or  do  an  unreafonable 
thing,  becaufe  he  confiders  God  as  every  where  prefent, 
performs  a  better  devotion,  thdn  hs  that  dares  not  mifs 
the  cliurch.  To  live  in  the  world  as  a  Granger  and  a 
pilgrim,  ufing  all  its  enjoyments  as  if  we  ufed  them 
not,  making  all  our  a£lions  fo  many  fleps  towards  a 
better  life,  is  offering  a  better  facrifice  to  God,  than 
any  forms  of  holy  and  heavenly  prayers. 

9.  To  be  humble  i^i  all  our  actions,  to  avoid  every 
appearance  of  pride  and  vanity,  to  be  meek  and  lowly 
in  our  words,  alliens,  drefs,  behaviour,  and  defigns, 
in  imitation  of  our  bleffed  Saviour,  is  worfhipping  God 
in  a  higher  manner,  than  thofe  do  who  have  only  times 
to  fall  low  on  their  knees.  He  that  contents  himfelf  with 
neceffaries,  that  he  may  give  the  remainder  to  thofe  that 
want  it  ;  that  dares  not  to  fpend  any  money  fooliflily, 
becaufe  he  confiders  it  as  a  talent  from  God,  which 
muft  be  ufed  according  to  his  will,  praifes  God,  with 
fomething  that  is  more  glorious  than  fongs  of  praife. 

Prayers  therefore  are  fo  far  from  being  a  fufficient 
devotion,  that  they  are  the  fmalleft  parts  of  it.  Wc 
are  to  praife  God  with  words  and  prayers^  becaufe  it 
is  a  poflible  way  of  glorifying  God.  But  then,  as 
words  arc  but  fmall  things  in  themfclves,  as  times  of 
prayer  are  but  little,  if  compared  with  the  reft  of  our 
lives  ;  fo  that  devotion  which  only  confifts  in  times  and 
forms  of  prayer,  is  but  a  very  fmall  thing,  if  compared 
to  that  devotion  which  is  to  appear  in  every  other  part 
and  circumftance  of  our  lives. 

10.  Again,  as  it  is  an  eafy  thing  to  worfhip  God 
with  forms  of  words,  and  to  obferve  times  of  offering 
them  unto  him,  fo  it  is  the  fmalleft  kind  of  piety. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  as  it  is  more  difHcult  to 
warlhip  God  with  our  fubiUnce,  to   honor  him  with 


(     72     ) 

the  right  ufe  of  our  time,  to  offer  to  him  the  continual 
Sacrifice  of  fclf-denlal  and  mortification  ;  as  it  reqiiires 
rnore  piety  to  eat  and  drink  only  for  fuch  ends  as  niay 
glorify  God,  to  undertake  no  labour,  nor  allow  of  any 
diverfion,  but  where  v.'e  can  adl  in  the  name  of  God  ; 
as  it  is  mort  difficult  toHicrifice  all  our  corrupt  tempers, 
r:nd  make  piety  to  God  the  rule  and  meafure  of  all  the 
anions  of  our  common  life  :  fo  the  devotion  of  this  kind 
is  a  much  more  acceptable  fervice  to  God,  than  thofe 
■words  of  devotion  Avhich  we  offer  to  him  either  in  tht 
church,  or  in  our  clofet. 

Every  fober  reader  will  eafily  perceive,  that  I  do  not 
intend  to  lefTen  the  true  and  great  Val,  -  of  prayers,  ei- 
ther public  or  private  ;  but  only  to  Ih;  ,  in,  that  they 
-are  certainly  but  a  very  {lender  part  o>  dcv  .t.  ::i,  when 
compared  to  a  devout  life. 

1  I.  *  To  fee  this  in  a  yet  clearer  light,  let  us  fuppofe 
a  perfon  to  have  appointed  times  for  praiGn^p-  God  v/ith 
pfalms  and  hymns,  and  to  be  ftridl  in  the  ob.Vivation  of 
them  ;  let  it  be  fuppofed  alfo,  that  in  his  coniiTion  life 
he  is  refllefs  and  uneafy,  full  of  murmurings  and  com- 
plaints at  every  thing,  never  plcafed  but  by  ci-.ance, 
but  murmuring  and  repining  at  the  very  feafons,  and 
liaving  fomething  to  diflike  in  every  thing  that  hap- 
pens to  him.  Now,  can  you  conceive  any  thing  more" 
abfurd  and  unreafonable,  than  fuch  a  character  as  this?  ^ 
Is  fuch  an  one  to  be  reckoned  thankful  to  God,  becaufe 
he  has  forms  of  praife  which  he  offers  to  him  ?  Nay, 
is  it  not  certain,  that  fuch  forms  of  praife  muft  be  lb 
far  from  being  an  acceptable  devotion  to  God,  that 
they  mull  be  an  abomination  ?  Now  the  ahfurdity 
which  you  fee  in  this  inftance,  is  the  fame  in  any  other' 
part  of  our  life.  If  our  common  life  hath  aiiy  contrariety 
to  our  prayers,  it  is  the  fame  abomination,  as  fongs  of 
thankfgiving  in  the  mouths  of  murmurers. 

Bended  knees,  whilft  you  are  clothed  with  pride  ; 
heavenly  petitions,  v/hilft  you  are  hoarding  up  trea- 
fures  upan  earth;  holy  devotions,  vhllfl  you  live  >.!  the 
follies  of  the  v/orld  ;  prayers  of  mccK.;v'\  and  charity, 
•whilfl  your  heart  is  the  feat  of  fpite  and  refentment  , 
hours  of  prayer,  whild  you  give  up  days  and  years  to 


(     73     ) 

Idle  dlvej  Tior.-;,  impertinent  vlfits,  and  forlilli  pleafuif :- ; 
arc  as  unactcpfable  a  fervice  to  God,  as  forms  of  tliankf- 
giving  IVom  a  pcrlon  that  lives  in  repinings  and  dif- 
tonteiit. 

So  that  unlefs  the  coinmon  courfe  of  our  lives  be  ac- 
cording to  the  conanion  ipirit  of  our  prr.yers,  o-^f  pray- 
ers are  fo  far  from  being  a  fiifficient  degree  of  devotion, 
that  they  become  an  empty  lip-labour  :  or,  what  is 
"vvorfe,  a  notorious  hypocrlfy. 

12,  Seeing  therefore  we  are  to  make  the  fpirlt  and 
temper  of  our  prayers,  the  common  fpirlt  and  temper  of  our 
lives,  this  may  convince  us,  that  all  orders  of  people 
are  to  labour  after  the  fame  utmofl  perf^cflion  of  the 
Chrinian  life.  For  as  all  Chrlftians  are  to  ufe  the  fame 
holy  and  heavenly  devotions,  as  they  are  all  with  the 
fame  earnelbiefs  to  pray  for  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  fo  is  it 
a  fuffitient  proof,  that  all  orders  of  people  are,  to  the 
utmoft.  of  their  power,  to  make  their  life  agreeable  to 
that  one  Spirit,  for  whicli  they  all  piay. 

*  A  foldicr,  or  a  tradefman,  is  not  called  to  minlAer 
at  the  altar,  or  preach  the  gofpel ;  but  every^  loldiev 
or  tradefman  is  as  much  obliged  to  be  devout,  humible, 
holy,  and  heavenly- minded  in  all  the  parts  of  his  com- 
mon life,  as  a  clergyman  is  obliged  to  be  zealous,  faith- 
ful,  and  laborious  in  all  parts  of  his  profeifion. 

13.  *  All  men  therefore,  as  men,  have  one  and  the 
fame  important  bufinefs,  to  a6l  up  to  the  excellency  of 
their  rational  nature,  and  to  make  reafon  and  order  the 
law  of  all  their  defigns  and  adlions.  All  Chriftians,  as 
ChriRlans,  have  one  and  the  fame  calling,  to  live  ac- 
cording to  tht  excellency  of  the  ChrlRian  fpirlt,  and  to 
make  the  fubllme  precepts  of  the  gcfpel,  the  rule  and 
meafure  of  all  their  tempers  in  common  life.  The  one 
thing  needful  to  one,  is  the  one  thing  needful  to  all. 

*  The  merchant  is  no  longer  to  hoard  up  treafures  up- 
on earth  ;  the  foldier  is  no  longer  to  fight  for  glory  ;  the 
great  fcholar  is  no  longer  to  pride  hlmfelf  in  the  df-pths 
offciejice  ;  but  they  mull  all,  with  one  fplr;t,  count  ail 
things  but  loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Christ  Jesus, 

G 


(     74     ) 

*  The  fine  lady  niuft  teach  her  eyes  to  weep,  and  be 
clothed  with  humility.  The  polite  gentleman  nnift  ex- 
change the  gay  thoughts  of  wit  and  fancy,  for  a  broken 
arid  a  cojitrite  heart.  The  man  ef  quality  mufl  fo  far  re- 
riourice  the  dignity  of  his  birth,  as  to  think  hin^reif  nji- 
ferable  till  he  is  born  again.  Servants  muft  conlider  their 
fervice  as  don«  unto  God.  Mailers  muft  confider  their 
fervants  as  their  brethren  in  Chrift,  that  are  to  be  treat- 
ed as  their  fellow  members  of  the  myftical  body  of  Chrifl:. 

14.  *  Young  ladies  muft  either  devote  themfelves  to 
piety,  prayer,  felf-denial,  and  all  good  works  in  a  vir- 
gin Hate  of  life  ;  or  elfe  marry  to  be  holy,  fober,  and 
prudent  in  the  care  of  a  family,  bringing  up  their  chil- 
dren in  piety,  humility,  and  devotion,  and  abounding- 
in  all  other  good  works,  to  the  utmolt  of  their  capacity. 
They  have  no  choice  of  anything  elie  ;  butmufl  devote 
themfelves  to  Cod  in  one  of  thefe  dates.  They  may 
chufe  a  married,  or  a  fingle  life;  but  it  is  not  left  to 
their  choice,  whether  they  Avill  make  either  ftate,  a 
ftate  of  holinefs,  humility,  and  all  other  duties  of  the 
Chriftian  life.  It  is  no  more  left  in  their  power,  bccaufe 
they  have  fortunes,  or  are  born  of  rich  pareuts,  to  di- 
vide themfelves  betwixt  God  and  the  world,  or  take 
fuch  pleafures  as  their  fertune  will  afford  them,  than  to 
be  fometimes  chaAe  and  modeft,  and  fometimes  not. 

*  They  are  not  to  confider  how  mach  religiott  may 
fecure  them  a  fair  charafter,  or  how  they  may  add  de- 
votion to  an  impertinent,  vaiU)  and  giddy  life  ;  but  muft 
look  into  the  fpirit  and  temper  of  their  prayers,  into  the 
iiature  and  end  of  chriftianity  ;  and  then  they  will  Und, 
that  whether  married  or  unmarried,  they  have  but  one 
bufinefs  upon  their  hands  ;  to  be  wife,  and  pious,  and 
holy  ;  not  in  little  modes  and  forms  of  worfhip,  but  in 
the  whole  turn  of  their  minds,  in  the  whole  form  of 
their  behaviour,  and  in  the  daily  courfe  of  their  com- 
mon life. 

15.  *  Young  gentlemen  muft  confider  what  our  blef- 
fed  Saviour  faid  to  the  young  gentleman  in  the  gofpel ; 
he  bade  him  sell  all  he  had,  and ghe  to  the  poor.  Now 
though  this  text  does  not  oblige  all  people  to  fell  all  ; 
yet  it  certainly  obli^-esall  kinds  of  people  to  employ  all 


(  "  ) 

their  cflates  in  fuch  wife  and  rearonable  ways,  as  may 
fliew  all  they  have  is  devoted  to  God  ;  aiyl  that  no  part 
of  it  is  kept  from  the  poor,  to  be  fpen'^  in  needlefs, 
vain,  and  foolifh  expenfes. 

*  If  therefore  young  gentlemen  propofe  to  themfelves 
a  life  of  pkafure  and  indulgence  ;  ifihcy  Ipendtheir  ef- 
t;ites  ill  high  living,  in  luxury  and  intemperance,  in 
ftate  and  equipage,  in  pleafures  and  diverGons,  in  fports 
and  gaming  and  fuch  like  wanton  gratifications  of  their 
foolifh  paffionS)  tliey  have  as  much  reafon  to  look  upon 
themfelves  to  be  angels,  as  to  be  difcipks  of  Chrift. 

*  Let  them  be  alfured,  that  it  is  the  one  only  bufi- 
nefs  of  a  Chriflian  gentleman,  to  dirtingnifli  himfelf  by 
good  work",  to  be  eminent  in  the  mo(\  Uiblime  virtues 
of  the  gofpel,  to  bear  with  the  ignorance  and  weaknefj^ 
of  the  vr.lgar,  to  be  a  friend  and  patron  to  all  that  dwell 
about  him,  to  live  in  tlie  utmofl  heights  of  v/ifdom  aird 
liolinefs,  and  fliew  through  the  whole  courfc  of  bis  life 
a  true  religious  greatnefs  of  mind.  They  mud  afpire 
after  fuch  a  gentility,  as  they  might  have  learned  from 
feeing  the  blcfTed  Jefus,  and  fhew  no  other  fpirit  of  a 
gentleman,  but  fuch  as  they  might  have  got  by  iiving- 
with  the  holy  apoRles.  They  muft  learn  to  love  God 
with  all  their  heart,  with  all  tiieir  f  ^ul,  and  with  all 
their  ftrcngth,  and  their  neighbour  as  themfelves  ;  and 
then  they  have  all  the  greatnefs  and  UiRincliion  that  they 
can  have  here,  and  are  fit  for  eternal  happinefs  in  hea- 
ven. 

16.  Thus,  in  all  orders  and  conditions,  either  of 
men  or  women,  this  is  the  one  liolinefs,  which  is  to  be 
the  common  life  of  all  Clirillians. 

Themerchftntisnot  to  leave  devotion  to  the  clergyman, 
nor  the  clergyman  to  leave  humility  to  the  labourer.  Wo- 
men of  fortune  are  not  to  leave  it  to  the  poor  of  their 
fex,  to  bedUcreet^  chaste,  Aeepers  at  home,,  to  adorn  them^ 
selves  in  ynodest  apparel^  shaine-facedness  and  sobriety  ; 
nor  poor  women  leave  it  to  the  rich  to  attend  at  the  wor- 
Ihip  of  God.  Great  men  mull  be  eminent  for  true  pover- 
ty of  fpirit,  and  people  of  a  low  and  afllided  ftate  mull 
^i-eatly  rejoice  in  God. 


(     ?6     ) 

The  man  offtrcngth  and  power  is  to  forgive  and  pmy 
for  his  eneuiies,  and  the  innocent  fuflkrer  that  ischaintd 
in  prii'cn,  muft,  with  Paul  and  Silas,  at  midnight  fmg 
praifes  unto  G^-d.  For  God  is  to  be  glorifitd,  hornuTs 
is  to  be  pra6lifed,  and  the  fpirit  of  leligion  is  to  be  the 
conimon  fpirit  of  every  Chriftian  in  every  Rate  and  con- 
ditHan  of  Isfe. 

*  For  the  Sen  of  God  did  not  come  from  nbove,  to 
add  an  external  form  of  v/orfliip  to  the  feveral  ways  c-f 
life  tl^.at  are  in  the  world,  and  fo  to  leave  people  to  live 
Rs  th<'y  did  before,  in  fuqh  tempers  and  enjoyments  as 
th.e  fafliion  and  fpirit  of  the  world  approves  :  but  r.s 
he  came  down  from  heaven,  altogether  divine  and  heji- 
ve5i]y  in  his  own  nature  ;  fo  it  was  to  cull  mankind  lo  a 
divine  and  heavenly  life  ;  to  the  hi^heft  change  of  their 
vvhole  nature  and  temper;  to  be  born  again  of  the  ho- 
ly Spirit ;  to  walk  in  the  wirdom,  and  light,  and  love 
of  God,  and  to  be  like  him  to  the  utmoft  of  their  pow- 
er ;  to  a  mortification  of  their  paffions  ;  and  to  live  in 
fiirh  wifdom  and  holinefs,  a&  might  fit  them  to  enjoy 
God  to  all  eternity. 

17.  Whatever  tlierefore  is  foolifh,  vain,  or  earthly, 
or  fenfual  in  tlic  life  cf  a  Chridian,  is  fonn thing  thut 
ought  not  to  be  there.  But  if  any  thing  of  this  kir,d 
runs  through  the  coiirfe  cf  our  whole  lift',  if  we  allc\v 
ourftlvesin  things  that  are  citljer  vain,  foolifb,  or  fen- 
fn:'l,  we  rrnonnce  our  proftfHon, 

For  as  fure  as  Jefus  Chrirt  was  wifdom  and  hclinefs  ; 
r.sfureas  became  to  make  us  like  himfelf,  fo  fure  is  it, 
that  none  keep  to  tlicir  Chriltian  profeffion,  but  they, 
^vh'-•,  to  the  utmofl  of  their  power,  live  a  vr  fe,  and 
holy,  and  tiraveiily  life.  This,  and  this  alone,  is  chrif- 
ti?aiity  ;  nniverfal  holinefs  in  every  part  of  life,  a  hea- 
venly /  tfdom  in  all  our  actions,  not  conforming  to  the 
fpirit  and  tei^iper  of  the  world,  but  turning  all  wcrldly 
enjoyments  into  means  of  piety  and  devotion. 

18.  And  it'  it  be  the  happ'.nefs  and  glory  of  a  biihop 
to  live  in  th'.s  fpirit,  full  of  thtfe  holy  tempers,  doing 
evciy  thing  as  unto  God,  it  is  as  much  the  glory  and 
happuiefs  ot  all  men  and  women,  whether  young  cr  old, 
to  live  in  the  fame  fpirit.     And   whoever  can  fiiid  any 


(  '7  )    _ 

reafons,  why  an  ancient  bifiiop  fliould  be  intent  upon  di' 
vine  things,  turning  all  his  life  into  the  hj^ieft  cxevcire"^ 
of  piety  anJ  devotion,  vill  find  them  fo  many  vcalonS 
-vs'liy  he  ilionld  to  the  utmoR  of  his  power,  do  the  fame 
himftlf. 

Jf  you  fay  that  a  hKhop  mun  he  an  eminent  ex^rnpls 
of  Chriilian  holincfs,  bc-caufe  of  his  hi-  h  and  fancied 
calling,  you  fay  right.  But  if  you  fay,  that  it  is  niore 
to  his  advantage  to  be  exemplary,  than  it  is  yours,  you 
greatly  millake.  For  there  is  nothing  to  make  the 
higheft  degrees  of  holinefs  defirable  to  a  bilhop,  but 
■what  makes  them  equally  defirable  to  every  young  pcr- 
fon  of  every  family. 

For  an  exalted  piety,  and  the  religions  ufe  of  every 
thing,  is  as  much  the  glory  and  happinefs  of  one  ftate  of 
life  as  it  is  ci'  another. 

*  Do  but  fancy  what  a  fpirit  of  piety  you  would 
have  in  the  beft:  bidiop  in  the  world,  how  you  would 
have  him  love  God,  how  you  would  have  him  imitate 
the  life  of  our  Saviour  and  his  apollles,  how  you  would 
have  him  live  above  the  world,  Qiining  in  all  the  inllances 
of  a  heavenly  life,  and  then  you  have  found  out  that 
Spirit,  which  you  ought  to  make  the  fpirit  of  your  owu 
life. 

I  deCre  every  reader  to  dwell  a  Avhile  upon  this  re- 
fiedlion,  and  perhaps  he  will  find  more  conviction  from 
it  than  he  imagines.  Everyone  can  tell  how  good  and 
pious  he  would  have  fome  people  to  be  ;  every  one 
knows  how  wife  and  reafonable  a  thing  it  is  in  a  UiHiop, 
to  be  entirely  above  the  world,  and  be  an  eminent  ex- 
ample of  Chriftian  perfe(flion.  As  foon  as  you  think 
of  a  wife  and  ancient  bifliop,  you  fancy  fome  exalted  de- 
gree of  piety,  a  living  example  of  all  thole  holy  tem- 
pers which  you  find  defcribed  in  the  gofpel. 

19.  Now  if  you  alk  yourfelf,  what  is  the  happieft 
thing  for  a  young  clergyman  to  do  ?  You  niuil  be  forced 
to  anfwer,  that  nothing  can  be  fo  hippy  and  glorious 
for  him,  as  to  be  like  that  excellent,  holy  biOiop. 

*  If  you  go  on,  and  aik  what  is  the  happie{\  thing 
for  a  young  gentleman  or  his  lifters  to  do  ?  The  anfwer 
jnuil  be  ths  fame  j  that  nothing  can  be  fo  happy  or  glo- 

G   2 


(     7S     ) 

rioiis  for  tliem,  as  to  live  in  fuch  habits  of  pi<*tr,  in 
fuch  exeiciiC-rsot  a  divine  life,  as  this  good  old  biihop 
does.  For  every  thing  that  is  great  and  glorious  in  re- 
ligion, is  as  much  the  true  glory  of  every  man  or  wo- 
man, '^s  it  is  the  glory  of  any  biihop.  ]f  iiigh  degrees 
of  divine -love,  if  fervent  charity,  if  fpotlefs  purity,  if 
heafenly  afFiiidion,  if  conPtant  mortification,  if  frequent 
devotion,  be  t!ie  beft  and  happiefl  v/ay  of  life  for  any 
Ciirifiian,   it  is  fo  for  every  Chriftian. 

And  as  the  wifell  bifliop  in  the  world  is  he  who  lives  in 
the  greatePc  lieights  of  holinefs,  who  is  moil  exemplary 
in  all  the  excrcifes  of  a  divine  life  ;  fo  the  wileif  youth, 
the  wifefl  woman,  whether  married  or  unmarried,  is  flic 
that  lives  in  the  bigheft  degrees  of  Chriftian  holinefs, 
and  all  the  exercilcs  of  a  divine  and  heavenly  life. 


CHAP.     IX. 


■£herjing  hotv great  devotion  Jilh out-  lives iviththe great' 
est  peace  and  happiness  that  can  be  etijojed  in  tJiis  world* 

\,  OOME  people  will  perhaps  objedl,  that  this  living 
k3  unto  God  in  all  that  v/e  do,  is  too  great  a  re- 
ftraint  upon  human  life  ;  and  that,  by  depriving  our- 
felves  of  fo  many  innocent  pleafures,  we  iliall  render 
our  lives  dull,  uneafy  and  melancholy. 

*  It  will  produce  juft  the  contrary  eifedl.  InQead 
of  making  our  lives  dull  and  melancholy,  it  will  ren- 
der them  full  of  content  and  ftrong  fatiofa6tions  ;  as  by 
thefe  rules  we  only  change  the  childifh  iatisfa^ions  of 
our  vain  and  fickly  paffions  for  the  folid  enjoyments, 
and  real  happinefs  of  a  found  mind. 

For  as  there  is  no  true  foundation  for  comfort  in  life, 
but  in  the  affurance  that  a  wife  and  good  God  govern- 
cth  the  world  ;  fo  the  more  we  find  out  God  in  every 
thing,  the  more  we  '^pply  to  him  in  every  place,  the 
more  we  look  up  to  him  in  all  our  adlions,  the  more  we 
conform  to  his  will,  the  more  we  zdi  according  to  his 
■wifdom,  and    imitate  his    goodnefs,  by  fo    much    the 


(     79     ) 

more  do  we  enjoy  God,  and  Inc.reafe  kil  that  is  happy 
ar.cl  comfortable  in  human  life. 

And  it  is  plain,  he  that  is  endcavourifl|p  to  fubdne 
all  thole  pafTions  of  piide,  envy,  and  anibition,  wiiich 
religion  oupofes,  is  doing  more  to  m-^ke  hinifelf  happy, 
t-ven  in  this  life,  than  he  that  is  contriving  means  to 
indiilg-e  tht;m.  ''■ 

*  Forthefe  paflions  are  the  caufes  of  all  the  difcjuicts 
of  hnnian  life  ;  they  are  the  dropfies  and  fevers  of  our 
minds,  vexing  them  with  falfe  appetites,  and  reftlefs 
cravings  after  fwch  things  as  we  do  not  want,  and  fpoil- 
ing  our  tafte  for  thofe  things  which  are  our  proper  good. 

2.  *  Do  but  imagine  that  you  fomewhtre  or  other 
faw  a  niau,  that  propofed  reafon  as  the  rule  of  all  his 
actions  ;  that  had  no  dciires  but  after  fuch  things  as  na- 
ture wants,  and  religion  approves  ;  that  was  as  pure 
from  all  the  motions  of  pride,  envy,  and  covetoufnefs,  as 
from  thoughts  of  murder  ;  that  in  this  freedom  from 
worldly  paflions,  he  had  a  foul  full  of  divine  love,  wifli- 
ing  and  praying  that  all  men  may  have  what  they  want 
of  worldly  things,    and  be  partakers  of  eternal  glory. 

Do  but  fancy  a  man  living  in  this  manner,  and  your 
own  confcience  will  immediately  tell  you,  that  he  is 
the  happiefl:  man  in  the  world,  and  that  it  is  not  in  the 
power  of  the  richeft  fancy  to  invent  any  higher  happi- 
nefs  in  the  prefentlife. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  if  you  fuppofe  him  to  be 
in  any  degree  lefs  perfect  ;  if  you  fuppofe  him  but 
fubje^  to  one  foolifli  fondnefs,  or  vain  paffion,  your 
own  confcience  will  tell  you,  that  he  fo  far  lefTens  hia 
own  happinefs,  and  robs  himfelf  of  the  true  enjoyment 
of  his  other  virtues.  So  true  is  it,  that  the  more  we 
live  by  the  rules  of  religion,  the  more  peaceful  and  hap- 
py we  are. 

S.  Again,  as  it  thus  appears  that  real  happinefs  is  on- 
ly to  be  had  from  religion  ;  fo  the  fame  truth  will  ap- 
pear from  a  conlideration  of  human  mifery.  If  we  look 
into  the  world,  and  view  the  troubles  of  human  life, 
we  (hall  find  that  they  are  all  owing  to  our  irreligious 
paiTions. 


(     80     ^ 

Now  all  trouble  and  iineafinefs  is  founded  in  tlie 
want  of  fomething  or  other  ;  would  we  therefore  know 
the  true  caufe  of  our  tVoubles  and  difquiets,  we  mud 
fiiid  out  the  caufe  of  our  wants  ;  becaufe  that  which 
creates  and  incrrafes  our  wants  does  in  the  fame  de- 
gree create  and  increafe  our  troubles  and  difquiets. 

God  almighty  has  fent  us  into  the  world  with  very 
few  wants  :  meat,  and  drink,  and  clothing,  are  the  only 
things  Jiecclfary  in  life  ;  and  as  t'.efe  are  only  our  pre- 
fent  needs,  fo  the  prefent  world  is  well  furnilhed  to  fup- 
ply  thefe  needs. 

If  a  man  had  half  the  world  in  his  power,  he  can 
make  no  more  of  it  than  this  ;  as  he  wants  it  only  to 
fupport  an  animal  life,  fo  is  it  unable  to  do  any  thing 
elfe  for  him,  or  to  aiford  him  any  other  happinefs. 

4.  This  is  the  Rate  of  man,  barn  with  few  wants, 
and  into  a  laige  world,  very  capable  of  fupplying  them. 
So  that  one  would  reafonably  fuppofe,  men  fhould  pafii 
their  lives  in  content  and  thankfulnels  to  God,  at  leaft, 
that  they  fliould  be  free  from  violent  difquiets  and  vex- 
ations, as  being  placed  in  a  world  that  has  more  than 
enough  to  relieve  all  their  wants. 

But  if  to  all  this  we  add,  that  this  jQiort  life,  thus 
furnifhed  with  all  that  we  want  in  it,  is  only  a  fhort 
paffage  to  eternal  glory,  where  Ave  fhall  be  clothed  with 
the  brightnefs  of  angels,  and  enter  into  the  joys  of  God, 
we  mignt  ftill  more  reafonably  expcdl  that  human  life 
fiiould  be  a  flate  of  peace,  and  joy,  and  delight  in  God. 
Thus  it  would  certainly  be,  if  rcafon  had  its  full  pow- 
er over  us. 

*  But,  alas  1  though  God,  and  nature,  and  reafon, 
make  human  life  thus  free  from  wants,  yet  our  pallions, 
in  rebellion  againll:  God,  againft  nature  and  reafon, 
create  a  new  world  of  evils,  and  fill  human  life  with 
imaginary  wants,  and  vain  difquiets. 

*  The  man  of  pride  has  a  thoufand  wants  which  on- 
ly his  own  pride  has  created  ;  and  thefe  render  him  as 
full  of  trouble,  as  if  God  had  created  him  with  a  thou- 
fand appetites,  without  creating  any  thing  that  was  pro- 
per to  fatisfy  them.  Envy  and  ambition  have  alfo  their 
endlcfs   wants,  which  difquiet  the  fouls  of  men,  and  by 


(     81     ) 

tlu'ir  c6ntra(Vivf\ory  inotu)ns,  render  tliem  as  fooUnily 
niif>rrnble,  as  thole  that  want  to  fly  and  creep  at  the 
fame  time. 

Lf;t  but  any  comphuninfr-,  difquicted  inan,  tell  you 
the  ,Lcroiiiid  of  his  urieiiCinefs,  and  you  will  plainly  fee 
that  he  is  the  author  of  his  own  torment  ;  that  he  is  vex- 
ing himlVlf  at  fome  imaginary  evil,  .which  will  ceafe  to 
torment  him  as  foon  as  he  is  content  to  be  that  which 
God,  and  nature,  and  reafon,  require  him  to  be. 

5.  *  If  you  fhould  fee  a  man  palling  his  days  in  dif- 
quiet,  becaufe  he  could  not  walk  upon  the  water,  of 
catch  birds  as  they  fly  by  him,  you  would  readily  con- 
fefs,  that  fuch  an  one  might  thank  himfelf  for  fuch  un- 
ei'.finefs.  But  now  if  you  look  into  the  molt  tormenting 
cH'rquiets  of  life,  you  will  find  them  all  thus  abfurd. 
People  are  only  tormented  by  their  own  folly,  and  vex- 
ing themfelves  at  fuch  things  as  no  more  concern  them, 
nor  are  'aiy  more  their  proper  good,  than  walking  upon 
the  water,  or  .catching  biids. 

*  What  can  you  conceive  more  fiily  and  extravagant, 
than  a  man  racking-  his  brains,  aj',d  ftudylng  night  and 
day  how  to  fly  ?  Wandering  from  his  own  houfe  and 
home,  wearying  himfcif  wlthclimbingupcjn  ever\  accent, 
cringing  and  courting  every  body  he  meets,  to  lift  him  up 
from  the  ground,  bruifmg  himleif  with  continual  falls, 
and  at  laO;  breaking  his  neck?  And  all  this,  fiom  aa 
imaginiition  that  it  would  be  glorious  to  have  the  eyts 
of  people  gazing  up  at  him,  and  mighty  happy  to  cat, 
and  drink,  and  ilftp,  at  tr.c  t(!p  of  the  higheil:  trees  in 
the  country.  Would  you  not  readily  own,  that  fuch 
a  or.e  was  only  difquieted  at  his  own  folly  ? 

If  yoa  alk,  what  It  fignifies  to  fuppole  fuch  filly  crea- 
tures as  are  no  where  to  be  found  in  human  life  ? 

It  may  be  anfwered.  that  wherever  you  fee  an  an.bU 
tious  n:ian,  there  you  fee  this  vain  and  fenfclels  flyer. 

6.  *  Again,  it" you  fliould  fte  a  man  that  had  a  large 
pond  of  watcrj  yet  living  in  continual  thirft,  not  fuiTcring 
himfelf  to  drink  half  a  draught,  for  fear  of  leiTening  his 
pond  ;  if  you  fliould  fte  him  wafting  his  time  iind 
Pirength,  in  fctchiiig  more  water  to  his  pond,  always 
thirfly;  yet  always  £?.rrying  abuckctcf  water  in  his  h.ind, 


(     82     ) 

watching  early  and  late  to  catch  the  drops  of  rain,  gap- 
ing after  every  cloiul,  and  running  greedily  into  every 
mire  and  mud,  in  hopes  of  water  and  always  fludying 
how  to  make  every  ditch  empty  itfelf  into  h\?  po  ,d.  If 
you  Hiould  fee  him  grow  grey  and  old  in  theic  anxious 
labours,  and  at  laft  end  a  careful  thirfty  life  by  falling 
into  his  own  por.d  ;  would  you  not  fay,  that  fuch  a  one 
was  not  only  the  author  of  all  his  own  difquiets,  but 
■was  foolifli  enough  to  be  reckoned  amongfl  idiots  and 
madmen  ?  But  yet  foolifh  and  abfurd  as  this  chara<rter 
is,  it  does  not  reprefent  half  the  follies,  and  abfurd  dif- 
quiets of  the  covetous  man. 

T  could  now  eafily  proceed  to  fliew  the  fame  cffefts  of 
all  our  other  paffions,  and  make  it  plainly  appear,  that 
all  our  miferies,  vexations,  and  complaints,  are  entire- 
ly of  our  own  making,  and  that  in  the  fame  abfurd 
manner,  as  in  thefe  inftancesof  the  covetous  and  ambitious 
maiv.  *  Look  where  you  will,  you  will  fee  all  worldly 
vexations,  but  like  the  vexation  of  him  that  was  always 
in  mire  and  mud  in  fearch  of  water  to  drink,  when  lie  had 
more  at  home  than  was  fulficient  for  an  hundred  horfes, 

7.  *  Galia  is  always  telling  you  how  provoked  fbe 
is,  what  intolerable  fliocking  things  happen  to  her,  what 
monflrous  ufage  O-ie  fulTers,  and  what  vexations  Ihe  meets 
with  every  w'here.  She  tells  you  that  her  patience  is 
quite  worn  out,  and  that  there  is  no  bearing  the  behavi- 
our of  people.  Every  alfembly  that  (lie  is  at,  fends  her 
home  provoked  ;  fomething  or  other  has  been  faid,  or 
done,  that  no  reafonable,  well-bred  pcrfoii  ought,  to 
bear.  Poor  people  that  want  lier  charity,  are  fent  away 
v.'ith  haViy  anfwers  ;  liot  becaufe  flie  has  not  a  heart  to 
part  with  any  money,  but  becaufe  Ihe  is  too  full  of  fome 
trouble  of  her  own,  to  attend  to  the  complaints  of 
others.  Cslia  has  uo  bufinefs  upon  her  hands,  but  to 
receive  the  income  of  a  plentiful  fortune  ;  but  yet  by 
the  doleful  turn  of  her  mind,  you  would  be  apt  to 
thiiik  that  fat  had  neither  food  nor  lodging.  If  you  fee 
her  look  more  pale  than  ordinary,  if  her  lips  tremble 
v,'hen  Hie  fpeaks  to  you,  it  is  becaufe  flie  is  juft  come 
from  a  vifit,  where  Lupus  took  no  notice  at  all  of  her, 
but  talked  ail  the  time  to  Lucinda,  who  has  not  half 


(     83     ) 

lier  iortnnc.  When  crols  accidents  have  iO  difordcrf^cl 
her  Ipirits,  that  flie  is  forced  to  lend  lor  the  dodtor  to 
make  her  able  to  eat  ;  flie  tells  him,  in  great  anger  at 
Providence,  that  (lie  never  was  well  fince  (lie  was  born, 
and  that  fhe  envies  every  beggar  that  (he  lees  in  health. 

This  is  the  unquiet  life  of  Ci^lia,  who  has  nothing  to 
tornunt  her  but  her  own  fpiiit. 

If  you  could  infpire  her  with  ChviRian  humility,  you 
need  do  no  more  to  make  her  happy.  This  virtue 
would  make  her  thankful  to  God  for  half  fo  much 
health  as  flie  has  had,  and  help  her  to  enjoy  more  for  the 
time  to  come.  This  would  keep  oiTtremblings  and  lols 
of  appetite,  and  her  blood  would  need  nothing  elfe  to  . 
iweeten  it. 

8.  I  have  juft  touched  upon  thcfe  abfurd  charad^ers, 
to  convince  you  in  the  plaineft  manner,  that  religion  is 
fo  far  from  rendering  a  life  dull,  anxious,  and  uncomfort- 
able, that  on  the  contrary,  all  the  miferies,  vexations, 
and  complaints  that  are  in  the  world,  are  owing  to  the 
want  of  religion  ;  being  direclly  caufed  by  thofe  ab- 
furd paflions,  which  religion  teaches  us  to  deny. 

9.  Moll  people  uideed  confefs,  that  religion  pre- 
ferves  us  from  many  evils,  and  helps  us  in  many  re- 
fpe<^s  to  a  more  happy  enjoyment  of  ourfelves  ;  but 
then,  they  imagine,  this  is  only  trueof  fucha  moderate 
fharc  of  religion,  as  retrains  us  from  the  exceffes  of  our 
palTions.  They  fuppofc  that  the  Ari6l  rules  of  piety 
muft  make  our  lives  dull  and  uncomfortable. 

This  obje(?tiun  fuppofes,  that  religion,  moderately 
prad\ifed,  adds  to  our  happinets  ;  but  that  heights  of 
religion  have  a  contrary  effed. 

*  It  fuppofes  therefore,  that  it  is  happy  to  be  kept 
from  the  exccflfes  of  envy,  but  unhappy  to  be  kept  Irom 
other  degrees  of  envy  ;  that  it  is  happy  to  be  delivered 
from  a  boundlefs  ambition,  but  unhappy  to  be  without 
a  moderate  ambition.  It  fuppofts  alio,  that  the  happi- 
nefs  of  life  confills  in  a  mixture  of  virtue  and  vice,  of 
ambition  and  humility,  charity  and  envy,  heavenly  af- 
fetlion  and  covetoui'nefs.  All  which  is  as  abfurd,  as  to 
fuppofe  that  it  is  happy  to  be  free  from  exceflive  pains, 
but  unhappy  t;Q  be  without  moderate  pains  j  or  that  the 


(     84     ) 

happinefs  of  health  confiftcth  in  being  partly  Tick,  and 
partly  v  Ji. 

But  it  humility  be  the  peace  and  reft  of  the  foul, 
tlTrn  no  one  has  i"o  much  happinefs  from  humility,  as 
he  that  is  the  mod  humble.  If  excefiive  envy  is  a  tor- 
ment of  the  A'ul.  ht  IS  ••.o{\,  h<*ppy  who  extinguilhes 
every  fparL  of  en\y. 

Thus  it  is  in  cverv  virtue  ;  the  more  you  a£l  up  to 
every  degree  of  it,  the  more  happinefs  ycu  have  from 
it.  And  fo.cf  every  vice:  if  you  ojily  abate  its  exceffes, 
you  do  but  little  for  ycurfelf ;  but  if  you  rejedl  it  in  all 
degrees,  tlien  you  feel  the  true'eafe  of  a  reformed  mind. 

10.  And  as  to  thole  eiijoyments  vvhich  piety  rtquireth 
lis  to  deny  ourfelvcs,  this  deprive:  us  of  no  real  com- 
fort. 

For  1ft,  Piety  requires  us  to  renounce  no  wsys  of 
life,  where  we  can  aft  reafonably,  and  offer  what  we 
do  CO  God.  All  ways  of  life,  all  enjoyments  that  are 
■within  thefe  bounds,  are  no  way  denied  us  by  the 
ftnfteft  rules  of  piety.  Whatever  you  can  do,  or  en- 
joy^  as  in  the  prefcnce  of  God,  as  his  fervant,  as  his 
rational  creature  ;  all  that  you  can  perform  confcrraa- 
bly  to  a  rational  nature,  is  allowed  by' the  laws  of  pi- 
ety. And  will  yon  think  that  your  life  will  be  uncom- 
foitablc-,  unlets  you  may  difpleafe  God,  and  ad"\  con- 
trary to  that  reafon  and  wifciom  which  he  has  implant- 
ed in  you  ? 

As  for  thofe  fatisfaftions,  which  we  dare  not  of- 
fer to  a  holy  God,  which  are  only  invented  by  the 
folly  and  corruption  of  the  world,  which  inflame  our 
palfions,  snd  fink  our  fouls  into  grcffnefs  and  fenfuality, 
and  render  us  incapable  of  the  uivine  favour  either  here 
or  hereafter  ;  iurely  it  can  be  no  uncomfortable  thing 
to  be  relcued  by  religion  from  fnch  fclf-murder,  and 
to  be  rendered  capable  of  eternal   happinefs. 

11.*  Let  us  luppnfe  a  pc  rion  placed  fomewhere 
alone  in  the  midft  of  a  variety  of  things  which  he  did 
not  know  how  to  ufe  ;  ihat  he  has  by  him  bread,  wine, 
water,  golden  duft,  iron,  chains  gravel  garnients,  fire. 
Let  it  be  fnppofed,  that  he  iias  n  knowledge,  nor  any 
duedions  from  his  fenfes,  how  to  quench  bis  thirft,  or 


(      85     ) 

fatisfy  his  hunger,  or  make  any  ulc  of  the  things  about 
him.  Let  it  be  iuppofed,  that  in  his  draught  he  puts 
golden  dufl  into  his  eyes  ;  when  his  eyes  finart,  he  puts 
wine  into  his  ears  ;  that  in  his  hunger,  he  puts  gravel 
in  his  mouth  ;  that  in  pain,  he  loads  himielf  with 
iron  chains  ;  that  feeling  cold  he  puts  his  feet  in  the 
water  ;  that  being  frighted  at  the  lire,  he  runs  away 
from  it ;  that  being  weary  he  makes  a  feat  of  his  bread. 
Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that  through  his  ignorance  of 
the  right  ul'e  of  the  things  that  are  about  him, 
he  will  vainly  torment  himfelf  whilfl  he  lives  ;  and 
at  lafl  die,  blinded  with  duft,  choaked  with  gravel,  and 
loaded  with  irons.  Let  it  be  fuppoied,  that  fome  good 
being  came  to  him,  and  Ihewed  him  the  nature  and  ufe 
of  all  the  things  that  were  about  him,  and  gave  him 
fuch  ftridl  rules  of  ufing  them,  as  would  certainly,  if  ob- 
ferved,  make  him  the  happier  for  all  that  he  had,  and 
deliver  him  from  the  pains  of  hunger,  and  thirft,  and 
cold. 

Now,  conld  you  with  any  reafon  affirm,  that  thofe 
flridl  rules  of  ufing  thofe  things  that  were  about  him, 
had  renderedthat  poorman's  life  dull  and  uncomfortable  ? 

12.  This  is,  in  fome  meafure,  a  reprefentation  of  die 
flridl  rules  of  religion  ;  they  only  relieve  our  ignorance, 
fave  us  from  tormenting  ourfelves,  and  teach  us  to  ufc 
every  thing  about  us  to  our  advantage. 

Man  is  placed  in  a  world  full  of  variety  of  things  ;  his 
ignorance  makes  him  ufe  many  of  them  as  abiurdly  as 
the  man  that  put  duft  in  his  eyes  to  relieve  his  third,  or 
put  on  chains  to  remove  pain. 

Religion  thertfore  here  comes  in  to  his  relief,  and 
gives  him  ftritl  rules  of  uling  every  thing  that  is  about 
him  ;  that  by  fo  uling  them  fuitably  to  his  own  nature 
and  the  nature  of  the  things,  he  may  have  always  the 
pleafure  of  receiving  benefit  from  them.  It  (hews  him 
what  is  flri6tly  right  in  meat,  and  drink  and  clothes  ; 
and  that  he  has  nothing  elfe  to  expedl  from  the  things 
of  this  world,  but  to  fatisfy  fuch  wants  of  his  own  ;  and 
then  to  extend  his  afTiftance  to  all  his  brethen,  that,  as 
far  as  he  is  able,  he  may  help  all  his  fellow-creatures 
to  the  fame  benefit  from  the  world  that  he  hath. 
H 


(     86     ) 

It  tells  him,  that  this  woild  is  incapable  of  giving  hint 
any  other  happinefs  ;  and  that  all  endeavours  to  be  hap- 
py in  heaps  of  money,  or  acres  of  land,  in  fine  clothes, 
rich  beds,  (lately  equipage  and  fhew  and  fplendour,  are 
only  vain  endeavours,  ignorant  attempts  after  impofli- 
bilities  ;  thefe  things  beii.g  no  more  able  to  give  the 
leafl:  degree  of  happinefs,  than  dull  in  the  eyes  can  cure 
thirft,  or  gravel  in  the  mouth  fatisfy  hunger  ;  but,  like 
dull  and  gravel  mifapplied.  will  only  ferve  to  render 
him  more  unhappy  by  fuch  an  ignorant  mifufe  of  them. 

It  tells  him,  although  this  world  can  do  no  more  for 
him  than  fatisfy  thefe  wants  of  the  body,  yet  there  is 
a  much  greater  good  prepared  for  man,  than  eating, 
drinking,  and  dreffing  ;  that  it  is  yet  invifible  to  his 
eyes,  being  too  glorious  for  the  apprehenfion  of  flefti 
and  blood  ;  but  referved  for  him  to  enter  upon,  as  foon 
as  this  fhort  life  is  over  ;  where,  in  a  new  body,  form- 
ed to  an  angelic  likenefs,  he  fhall  dwell  in  the  light 
and  glory  of  God  to  all  eternity. 

*  It  tells  him,  that  this  ftate  of  glory  will  be  given 
to  all  thofe  that  make  a  right  ufe  of  the  things  of  this 
prefent  world  ;  who  do  not  blind  themfelves  with  gold- 
en dud,  or  eat  gravel,  or  groan  under  loads  of  iron  of 
their  own  putting  on  ;  but  ufe  biead,  water,  wine,  and 
garments,  for  fuch  ends  as  are  according  to  nature  and 
reafon  ;  and  who  with  faith  and  thankfulnefs,  worOiip 
the  kind  Giver  of  all  that  they  enjoy  here,  and  hope  for 
hereafter. 

14.  Now  can  any  one  fay  that  the  ftriftcfl  rules  of 
fuch  a  religion  as  this  debar  us  of  any  of  the  comforts 
of  life  ?  Might  it  not  as  juHly  be  faid  of  thofe  rules, 
that  only  hindered  a  man  from  choaking  himfelf  with 
gravel  ?  For  the  ftridlnefs  of  thefe  rules  owly  confiiUin 
the  exaflnefs  of  their  re6litude. 

*  Who  would  complain  of  the  fevere  flridlnefs  of  a 
law,  that  without  any  exception  forbad  the  putting  of 
dull  into  our  eyes  1  Wao  could  think  it  too  rigid,  that 
there  were  no  abatements  ?  Now  this  is  the  ftridlnels  of 
religion;  it  requires  nothing  of  us  flridly,  or  without 
abatements,  but  where  every  degree  of  the  thing  is 
wrong,  where  every  indulgence  does  us  hurt. 


(   sr   ) 

*  If  religion  forbids  all  infliinces  of  revenge  without 
any  exception,  it  is  becaufe  all  revenge  is  of  the  nature 
of  poiion  ;  and  though  we  do  not  take  fo  much  as  to  put 
an  end  to  life,  yet  if  we  take  any  at  all,  it  corrupts 
the  mafs  of  blood,  and  makes  it  difficult  to  be  rellored 
to  our  former  health. 

If  religion  commands  an  univerfal  charity,  to  love 
oar  neighbour  as  ourfelves,  to  forgive  and  pray  for  all 
our  enemies  without  any  referve  ;  it  is  becaufe  all  de- 
grees of  love  are  degrees  of  happiuefs,  that  (Irengtlicii 
and  fupport  the  divine  life  of  the  foul,  and  are  as  necef- 
fary  to  its  health  and  happinefs,  as  proper  food  is  ne- 
ceffary  to  the  health  and  happinels  of  the  body. 

*  If  religion  has  laws  againft  laying  up  treafares  upon 
earth,  and  commands  us  to  be  content  with  food  and 
raiment  ;  it  is  becaufe  every  other  ufe  of  the  world  is 
abufing  it  to  our  own  vexation,  and  turning  its  conve- 
niences into  fnares  and  traps  to  deflroy  us.  It  is  be. 
caiife  this  plainnefs  and  fimpllcity  of  life,  fecnre  us  from 
the  tares  and  pains  of  refllefs  pride  and  envy,  and 
make  it  eaficr  to  keep  that  ftrait  road,  that  will  ■ 
carry  us  to  eternal   life, 

15-  If  religion  requires  us  fometimes  to  fafl  and  deny 
our  natural  appetites,  it  is  to  leifen  that  ilruggle  and 
war  that  U  in  our  natur-  ;  it  is  to  render  our  bodies 
fitter  indruments  of  puiity,  and  more  obedient  to  the 
good  motions  of  divine  grace;  it  is  to.  dry  up  the 
fprings  of  our  paffion^  that  war  againft  the  foul,  to  cool 
the  flame  of  cur  blood,  and  rdnder  the  mind  more  ca- 
pable of  divine  meditations.  So  that  although  tlicfc 
ai)(Iinences  give  foine  pain  to  the  body,  yet  they  fq 
leffen  the  power  of  bodily  appetites  and  paflions,  and 
fo  increafe  our  tafte  of  fpi ritual  j;jys,  that  even  thefe 
feverities  of  religion,  when  pra^ifed  with  difcretion, 
add  much  to  the  comfort  of  our  lives. 

If  religion  calleth  us  to  a  lifj  of  w^ltching  and  pray- 
er, it  is  becaufe  we  live  amoiigft  a  crowd  of  enen.ies, 
and  are  always  in  need  of  the  alhilance  of  God.  If  we 
are  to  confefs  and  bewail  our  fins,  it  is  becaufe  fuch 
confellions  relieve  the  mind,  and   rcllore  it  to  eale  ;  as 


(     88     ) 

burden? -and  weights  taken  off  the  flioulders,  relieve  the 
body,  and  make  it  eaOer  to  itftlf.  If  we  are  to  be 
frequent  and  fervent  in  holy  petitions,  it  is  to  keep  us 
(leady  in  the  fight  of  our  true  good,  and  that  we  inay 
never  want  the  happinefs  of  a  lively  faith,  a  joyful  hope, 
and  a  well  grounded  truft  in  God.  If  we  are  to  pray 
often,  it  is  that  we  may  be  often  happy  in  fuch  ferret 
joys  as  only  prayer  can  give  ;  in  fuch  communications 
of  the  divine  prefence,  as  will  fill  our  minds  with  all 
the  happinefs  that  beings  not  in  heaven  are  capable  of. 
If  religion  commands  us  to  live  wholly  unto  God, 
and  to  do  all  to  his  glory,  it  is  becaufe  every  other  way, 
is  living  wholly  again fl  ourfelves,  and  will  end  in  our 
lliame  and  confufion  of  face. 

16.  *  As  every  thing  is  dark,  that  God  does  not  en- 
lighten ;  as  every  thing  is  frnklefs,  that  has  not  its  fhare 
of  knowl:  dpe  from  hnn  ;  as  nothing  lives,  but  by  par- 
taking of  life  from  him  ;  as  nothing  exifts,  but  becaufe 
he  commands  it  to  be  ;  fo  there  is  no  glory  orgreatncfs, 
but  vvhat  is  the  glory  or  greatnefs  of  God. 

We  indeed  may  talk  of  human  glory,  as  we  may  talk 
cf  human  life  or  human  knowledge  ;  but  as  we  are  fure 
that  human  life  implies  nothing  of  our  own.  but  a  de- 
pendent living  in  God,  or  enjoying  fo  much  life  in  God  ; 
lo  human  glory,  whenever  wc  find  it,  muft  be  only  fo 
much  gloiy  as  we  enjoy  in  the  glory  of  God. 

*  This  is  the  ftate  of  all  creatures,  whether  men,  or 
angels  ;  as  they  make  not  themfelves,  fo  if  they  are 
great,  they  are  only  great  receivers  of  the  gifts  of  God  ; 
their  power  can  only  be  fo  much  of  the  divine  power  act- 
ing in  them  ;  their  wifdom  can  be  only  fo  much  of  the 
divine  wifdom  fliining  within  them  ;  and  their  light  and 
glory,  only  fo  much  of  the  light  and  glory  of  God  (hin- 
ing  upon  them. 

17.  *  As  they  are  not  men  or  angels,  becaufe  they 
had  a  mind  to  be  fo,  but  becaufe  the  will  of  God  form- 
ed them  to  be  what  they  are  ;  fo  they  cannot  enjoy  this 
or  that  happinefs  of  men  or  angels,  becaufe  they  have  a 
mind  to  it,  but  becaufe  it  is  the  will  of  God,  that  fuch 
thinc^s  be  the  happinefs  of  men,  and  fuch  things  the 
happmefs  of  angels.     But  now,  if  God  be  thus  all  ia 


(     69     ) 

all  ;  if  his  will  is  thus  the  meafure  of  all  things  and  all 
natures  ;  if  nothing  can  be  done,  but  by  his  power  ;  if 
nothing  can  be  feen,  but  by  a  light  from  him  ;  if  wc 
have  nothing  to  fear,  but  from  his  julVice  ;  if  we  have 
nothing  to  hope  for,  but  from  his  goodnefs  ;  if  this  is 
the  nature  of  man,  thus  helplcfs  in  himftlf  ;  if  this  is 
the  ftate  of  all  creatures,  as  well  thofein  heaven,  as  thofe 
on  earth  ;  if  they  are  nothing,  can  do  nothing,  can  fuf- 
fcr  no  pain,  nor  feel  any  happlnefs,  but  fo  far,  and  in 
fuch  degrees,  as  the  power  of  God  docs  all  this:  if  this 
be  the  ftate  of  things,  then  how  can  we  have  the  leafl 
gUmpfe-  of  joy  or  comfort  ?  How  can  we  have  any 
peaceful  enjo)ment  of  ourfelves,  but  by  living  v. holly 
unto  God,  ufing  and  doing  every  thing  conforma- 
bly to  his  will  ?  A  life  thus  devoted  unto  God,  lock- 
ing wholly  unto  him  in  all  our  aflions,  and  doing  all 
things  fuitable  to  his  glory,  is  fo  far  from  being  dull, 
and  uncomfortable,  that  it  creates  new  comforts  in 
every  thing  that  we  do. 

18.  On  the  contrnry,  would  you  fee  how  happy  they 
are,  who  live  according  to  their  own  wills,  who  cannot 
fubmit  to  the  dull  and  melancholy  bufinefs  of  a  life  devo- 
ted to  God  ?  Look  at  the  man  in  the  parable,  to  whom 
his  Lord  had  given  one  talent. 

He  could  not  bear  the  thoughts  of  ufmg  his  talent  .ic- 
cording  to  the  will  of  him  from  whom  he  had  it,  and 
therefore  he  chofe  to  make  himfelf  happier  in  another 
way  of  his  own.  "  Lord,*'  lays  he,  *"■  I  kn'-w  thee, 
that  thou  art  an  hard  man,  leaping  where  then  haft 
not  fown,  and  gathering  where  thou  haft  not  llrewed. 
And  I  was  afraid,  and  went  and  hid  thy  taltnt  in  the 
earth.    Lo,  there  thou  haft  that  is  thine."  Matt.  xjiv.  24. 

Here  you  fee  how  happy  this  man  made  iiurftU"  by 
not  acting  wholly  according  to  his  Lord's  will,  Jt  was 
according  to  iiis  own  account,  a  happmeis  of  rnurmin  ing 
and  difecntent  ;  I  knew  thee,  fays  he,  that  thou  w';;ll  an 
liard  man  :  It  was  an  haopinefs  ot  fears  and  aijp  ■,  ta  nt.uns  ; 
1  was,  fays-  he,  afraid  :  It  was  an  happineis  cl  vain  la- 
bours and  fruitlefs  travails  :  I  went,  fjl)s  h.e,  and  hid  thy 
talent  ;  and  after  having  been  a  while  ihe  fport  ^f  fooi- 
idi  paiTions,  tormenting  fears,  and  fruitlefs  labours,  he 
H  2 


(    so    ) 

is  rev;:i'-]eJ  \vith  eternal  darknefs,   weepiiif^,  and  gna[?i- 
ing  or  t-reth, 

!9.  Now  this  Is  the  happinefs  of  all  thofe,  who  look 
upon  flVid  piety,  that  is,  a  vight  uie  of  their  talent,  to 
be  a  dull  and  melancholv  thing. 

They  may  live  a  while  free  from  the  re(\raints  and 
elirc6c!()ns  of  religion  ;  but  infleacl  thereof,  they  mud 
be  under  the  abfiird  governn-.ent  of  their  pafTions  ;  they 
mull,  like  the  man  in  the  parable,  live  in  murmurings 
and  dilVon tents,  in  fears  and  apprcrhenfions.  They  may 
avoid  the  labour  of  doing  good,  of  fpending  their  time 
devoutly,  of  laying  up  treafures  in  heaven,  of  clothing 
the  naked,  of  vifiting  the  fick  ;  but  then  they  mufi:, 
like  tliis  man,  have  labours  and  pains  in  vain,  that  tend 
to  no  ufe  or  advantage,  that  do  no  good  either  to  th-m- 
f(.lves  or  others  ;  they  mufl;  travel,  and  labour,  and  work, 
2nd  dig,  to  hide  their  talent  in  the  earth.  They  muft, 
like  him,  at  their  Lord's  coming,  be  convidled  out  of 
their  own  mouths,  be  accufed  by  their  own  hearts,  and 
have  every  thing  that  they  have  faid  and  thought  of  re- 
ligion, be  made  to  fliew  the  juihce  of  their  condemna- 
tion to  eternal  darknefs,  weeping,  and  gnalhing  of 
teeth. 

This  is  the  purchafe  that  they  make,  who  avoid  the 
fLiiftnels  of  religion,  in  order  to  live  happily. 

20.  On  the  other  hand,  would  you  fee  a  flnort  de- 
fcription  (jf  the  happinefs  of  a  life  rightly  employed, 
wholly  devoted  to  God,  you  iruft  look  at  the  man  in  the 
parable,  to  whom  his  Lord  had  given  five  talents. 
"  Lord.."  fiys  he,  "  thou  deliveredfl:  unto  me  five  ta- 
lents :  behok4,  I  have  gained  befides  them  five  talents 
more.''  His  Lord  faid  unto  him,  "  well  done,  thou 
p-ood  and  faithful  i'ervant  ;  thou  baft  been  faithful  over 
a  fevv'  things,  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over  many  things  ; 
entt  r  thou  into  che  joy  of  thy  Lord." 

Here  ycu  fee  a  life  that  is  wholly  intent  upon  the 
improvement  of  the  talents,  that  is  devoted  wholly  un- 
t<i  God,  i?  a  Irate  of  happinefs,  profperous  labours,  and 
glorious  fucceiV,  Here  are  not,  as  m  the  former  cafe, 
any  uneafy  p::i!ions.  murmuring-?,  vain  fears,  and  truitlefs 
labours.     The  luan  is  not  toding,  and   digging  in  tlve 


(     91     ) 

earth  for  no  enti  or  advantage  ;  but  liis  labours  profuGi- 
in  his  hands,  his  happlnels  increafe;>  upon  him,  the 
blelFing-  of  five  becomes  th.c  bleirmg  of  ten  talents  ;  and 
he  is  received  -witli  a  ivell  dove  good  and  faithful  servant^ 
enter  tJwu  into  the  joy  of  ihy  Lord, 

2  1,  Now,  as  the  cafe  of  thefe  men  in  the  parable  left 
nothing  elfe  to  their  choice,  but  either  to  be  happy  in 
ufinpr  their  gifts  to  the  glory  of  their  Lord,  or  miferabls 
by  ufing-  them  according  to  their  own  hnmours  and  fan- 
cies ;  ^o  the  flute  of  chriftianity  leaves  u.j  no  other 
choice. 

*  All  that  we  have,  all  that  we  are,  all  that  we  en- 
joy, are  only  fo  manv  talents  from  God  :  if  we  nl'e  them 
to  the  end  of  a  pious  and  holy  iife,  our  five  talents  will 
become  ten,  and  our  labours  will  tarry  us  int  j  the  joy 
of  our  Lord  ;  but  if  v/e  al^ufe  them  to  the  grat'ilcation 
of  our  own  paffions,  facrificing  die  gifts  cf  God  to  owv 
own  pride  and  vanity,  we  Oiall  live  here  in  vain  labours 
and  foolirti  anxieties,  Hiunriing  r  iigion  as  a  n.el;incho]y 
thing,  accufing  rur  Lord  as  a  hard  mafler,  and  then  fall 
into  evcrlafting  mifcry. 

We  may  for  a  while  amufe  ourfclves  with  names,  and 
founds,  and  fliadows  of  happinefs  ;  we  may  talk  of  this 
or  thaLgreatnefs  and  dignity  :  but  if  we  defire  real  hap- 
pinefs,  we  have  no  oc:.v;r  polfible  w^y  to  it,  but  by  im- 
proving our  talents,  by  To  holily  and  pioufly  ufing  the 
powers  and  faculties  oi  men  in  thisprelent  ftate,  that  we 
may  be  happy  and  glorious  in  the  powers  and  faculties 
of  angels  in  the  'vorld  to  come. 

How  ignorant  therefore  are  they  of  the  nature  of  re- 
ligion, of  the  nature  of  man,  and  the  natute  of  God, 
who  think  a  lifr  of  flricl  piety  to  be  a  dull  and  uncomfort- 
abltr  fhite  ;  when  it  is  fo  plain  an^  certain,  that  there  is 
neither  comfort  nor  joy  to  be  found  in  any  thing  elfe  \ 


(     92     ) 

CHAP.     X. 

The  happiness  of  a  life  vjholly  devoted  unts  God^  farther 
provedy  from  the  vanity-^  and  the  ridiculous^  poor  en- 
joyments which  they  are  forced  to  take  up  with^  ivho 
live  according  to  their  onvn  humours*  This  represent- 
ed in  various  characters, 

1.  "^TrT"^'  ^'^^y  ^^^  y^^  more  of  the  happlnefs  of  a  life 
VV  devoted  to  God,  by  confidering  the  poor 
contrivanres  for  happinefs,  and  the  contemptible  ways 
of  llfi,  which  they  arj  thrown  into,  who  are  feeking  af- 
ter happinefs  by  other  methods. 

If  cBe  looks  at  their  lives,  who  live  by  no  rule  but 
t\ieir  own  humours  and  fancies  ;  if  one  fees  what  it 
is  which  they  call  joy,  and  g-reatnefs,  and  happinefs  ; 
if  one  fees  how  they  rejoice  and  repent,  change  and 
fly  from  one  delufion  to  another,  one  fliall  find  great 
reafon  to  rejoice,  that  God  hath  appointed  a  narrow 
way  that  leadeth  unto  life,  and  that  we  are  not  left  to 
the  folly  of  our  own  minds,  or  forced  to  take  up  with 
fuch  fliadows  of  happinefs,  ar,  the  fully  of  the  world 
has  invented.  I  fay  invented,  becaufe  thofe  things 
v'hich  make  up  the  joy  and  happinefs  of  the  world,  are 
mere  inventions,  which  have  no  foundation  in  nature, 
are  no  way  the  proper  good  or  happinefs  of  man,  no 
way  perfedl  either  his  body  or  his  mind. 

2.  *»As,  for  inflance,  when  a  man  propofes  to  be 
happy  in  ways  of  ambition,  by  raifing  himfelf  to  fome 
imaginary  heights  above  other  people.  This  is  an  inven- 
tion of  happinefs  which  has  no  foundation  in  nature, 
bu:  is  as  mere  a  cheat  of  our  own  making,  as  if  a  man 
fhould  intend  to  make  himfelf  happy  by  climbing  up  a 
ladder. 

*  If  a  woman  feeks  for  happinefs  from  fine  colours  or 
fpots  upon  her  face,  from  jewels  and  rich  clothes,  thts  is 
as  merely  an  invention  of  happinefs,  as  contrary  to  na- 
ture and  reafon,  as  if  fhe  fliould  propofe  to  make  herfelf 
happy  by  painting  a  poO.  and  putting  the  fame  finery 
upon  it.     It  is  in  this  refped  that  I  call  thefe  mere  in- 


(     93     ) 

vfiitions  of  happlncfs,  becaufc  neither  God,  nor  nature, 
nor  reafon,  hath  appointed  them  as  iuch  ;  but  whatever 
appears  joyful  or  hapqay  in  them,  is  entirely  invented 
by  theblindnefs  and  vanity  of  our  own  minds. 

And  it  is  on  thefe  inventions  of  happinefs,  that  T  de- 
fire  you  to  call  your  eye,  that  you  may  thence  learn 
liow  great  a  good  religion  is,  which  delivers  you  from 
fuch  a  multitude  of  follies  and  vain  puvfuits,  as  are  the 
torment  of  minds  that  wander  from  thei»*  true  happi- 
Refs  in  God. 

3*  *  Leok  at  Flatus,  and  learn  how  miferable  they 
are,  who  are  left  to  the  folly  of  their  own  paflions. 

Flatus  is  rich  and  in  health,  yet  always  uneafy,  and 
always  fearching  after  ha|jpineis.  Every  time  you  vifit 
him,  you  find  fome  new  project  in  his  head  ;  he  is  ea- 
ger upon  it  as  fomcthing  that  is  more  worth  his  while, 
and  will  do  more  for  him  than  any  thing  that  is  already 
pafl:.  Every  new  thing  fo  feizes  him,  that  if  you  were 
to  take  him  from  it,  he  would  think  himfelf  quite  un- 
done. His  fanguine  temper,  and  ftrong  pafTions,  pro- 
mife  him  fo  much  happinefs  in  every  thing,  that  he  is 
always  cheated,   and   is  fatisfied  with   nothing. 

At  his  firll  fetting  out  in  life,  fine  clothes  was  his  de- 
light. His  enquiry  was  only  after  the  beft  taylors  and 
peruke-makers  ;  and  he  had  no  thoughts  of  excelling  in 
any  thing  but  drefs  ;  he  fpared  no  expenfe,  but  carried 
every  nicety  to  its  greatefl  height.  But  this  happinefs 
not  anfwering  his  expedations,  he  left  off  his  brocades, 
put  on  a  plain  coat,  railed  at  fops  and  beaux,  and  gave 
himfelf  up  to  gaming  with  great  eagernefs. 

This  new  pleafure  fatisfied  him  for  fome  time  ;  h^ 
envied  no  other  way  of  life.  But  being  by  the  fate  of 
play  drawn  into  a  duel,  where  he  narrowly  efcaped  his 
d'*ath,  he  left  off  the  dice,  and  fought  for  happinefs  no 
longer  amongft  the  gamefiers. 

4.  The  next  thing  that  feized  his  wandering  imagi* 
nation,  "was  the  diverfions  of  the  town  ;  and  for  more 
than  a  twelvemonth,  you  heard  him  talk  of  nothing 
but  ladies,  drawing-rooms,  birth-nights,  plays,  balls,  and 
aflemblies  ;  but  growing  fick  of  thefe,  he  had  recourfe 
to  hard  drinking.     He   had  now  many  a   merry  nightj 


(     94     ) 

and  met  with  Wronger  joys  than  any  he  had  felt  before. 
Arid  here  he  had  thoughts  of  fetthig  up  iiis  llaff;  and 
looking  out  no  further;  but  unluckily  falling  into  a 
fever,  he  grew  angry  at  all  ftrong  liquors,  and  took  his 
leave  of  the  happinefs  of  being  drunk. 

The  next  attempt  after  happinefs  carried  him  into  the 
field.  For  two  or  three  years  nothing  was  fo  happy  as 
hunting.  He  entered  upon  it  with  all  his  foul,  and 
leaped  over  more  hedges  and  ditches  than  had  ever  been 
known  in  fo  fliort  a  tirnc.  You  never  faw  him  but  in 
a  green  coat.  He  was  the  envy  of  all  that  blew  the  horn, 
and  always  fpoke  to  his  dogs  in  great  propriety  of  lan- 
guage. If  you  met  him  at  home  in  a  bad  day,  you. 
\vould  hear  him  blow  his  horn,  and  be  entertained  with 
the  furprifnig  accidents  of  the  laft;  noble  chafe.  No 
fooner  had  Flatus  outdone  all  the  world  in  the  breed 
and  education  of  his  dogs,  built  new  kennels,  new  Aables, 
and  bought  a  new  hunting  feat,  but  he  got  fight  of  ano- 
ther happinefs,  hated  the  fenfclefs  noiie  and  hurry  of 
hunting,  gave  away  his  dogs,  and  "was  for  Ibme  time 
afier  deep  in  the  pleafures  of  building. 

5.  Now  he  invents  new  kinds  of  dove-cotes,  and  has 
fiich  contrivar.ces  in  his  barns  and  tables,  as  were  never 
feen  before.  He  wonders  at  the  dulnefs  of  the  old 
builders,  is  wholly  bent  upon  the  improvement  of  archi- 
tecture, and  will  hardly  hang  a  door  in  the  ordinary 
Avay.  He  tells  his  friends  that  he  never  was  fo  delight- 
ed m  arjy  thing  in  his  life  ;  that  he  has  more  happinefs 
amcngft  his  brick  and  mortar,  than  ever  he  had  at  court : 
arid  ihat  he  is  contriving  how  to  have  fome  little  mat- 
ter to  do  that  way  as  long  as  he  lives. 

After  this,  he  was  a  great  ftudent  for  one  v/hole  year. 
He  was  up  early  and  late  at  his  Italian  grammar,  that 
he  might  have  the  happinefs  of  underflandiEg  the  opera, 
and  not  be  liketh^fe  unrcafonable  people,  that  are  pleaf- 
ed  with  they  don't  know  what. 

Flatus  is  very  ill-natured,  or  otherwife,  jud  as  his  af- 
fairs h.ippen  to  be  wh^jiyou  viiit  him.  If  you  find  him 
when  fome  pr<iject  is  ahnofl  worn  out,  you  will  find  a 
peevilh.  lil-bred  man;  but  if  you  had  feen  him  juil  as 
he  entered  upon  his  riding  regimen,  or  began  to  excel 


(     95     ) 

in  fonndlng  the  horn,  you  had  been  faluted  with  great 
civility. 

Fhitus  is  now  at  a  full  (\and,  and  is  doing  what  he 
never  did  in  his  life  before.  He  is  reafoning  and  refleft- 
ing  with  himfelf.  He  lofes  feveral  days,  in  confidering 
which  of  his  eaft  off  ways  of  life  he  (honld  try  again. 

But  here  a  new  project  comes  in  to^  his  relief.  He  is 
now  living  upon  herbs,  and  running  about  the  country, 
to  get  himfelf  in  as  geod  wind  as  any  running-footman 
in  the  kingdom. 

6.  I  have  been  thus  circumftantlal  in  fo  many  fool- 
ifh  particulars,  becaufe  i  hope  that  every  particular 
folly  that  you  here  fee,  will  naturally  turn  itfelf  into  an 
argument  for  the  wifdom  and  happinefs  of" a  religious 
life. 

If  I  could  lay  before  you  a  particular  account  of  all 
the  circumftances  of  terror  and  dillrefs,  that  daily  at- 
tend a  life  at  fea,  the  more  particular  I  was  in  the  ac- 
count, the  more  I  fhould  make  you  feel  and  rejoice  in 
the  happinefs  of  living  upon  the  land. 

In  like  manner,  the  more  I  enumerate  the  follies, 
anxieties,  delufione,  and  reftlefs  de fires  which  go  through 
ever>t  part  of  a  life  devoted  to  worldly  enjoyments, 
the  more  you  muft  b'^  affedled  with  that  peace,  and 
reft,  and  folid  content,  which  religion  gives  to  the 
fouls  of  men. 

7.  But  you  will  perhaps  fay,  that  the  ridiculous  reft- 
lefs  life  of  Flatus,  is  not  the  common  ftate  of  thole  who 
negledl  the  ftridl;  rules  of  religion  ;  and  that  therefore 
it  is  not  fo  great  an  argument  of  the  happinels  of  a  re- 
ligious life, 

I  anfwer  that  I  am  afraid  it  ib  one  of  the  mofl  gene- 
ral charadlers  in  life  ;  and  that  few  people  can  read  it, 
without  feeing  fomcthlng  in  it  that  belongs  to  them- 
felves.  For  where  fliall  we  find  that  wife  and  h.  ppy 
man,  who  has  not  beeij  eagerly  purfuing  different  ap- 
pearances of  happinels,  fonictimeb  thnikiug  it  was  here, 
and  foiuetimes  there  ? 

And  if  people  were  to  divide  their  lives  into  particu- 
lar itages,  and  afk  themfelves  what  tlicy  were  purfuing, 
or  what  it  was  which  they  had  chiefly  in  view,  when 


(     96     ) 

they  were  twenty  years  old,  what  at  twenty-five,  what 
at  thirty,  what  at  forty,  what  at  fifty,  and  fo  on,  till 
they  were  brought  to  their  laft  bed  :  numbers  of  people 
would  find,  that  they  had  puriuedas  many  different  ap- 
pearances of  happinefs,  as  are  to  be  feen  in  the  life  of 
Flatus. 

And  thus  it  mufl;  be,  more  or  lefs,  with  all  who  pro- 
pofe  any  other  happinefs,  than  that  which  arifes  from 
a  fir  161  and  regular  piety. 

8.  But  fecondly,  let  it  be  granted,  that  the  generality 
of  people  are  not  of  fuch  reftlefs,  fickle  tempers  as  Fla- 
tus ;  the  difference  is  only  this,  Flatus  is  continually 
changing  and  trying  fomething  new,  but  others  are 
content  w  th  fome  one  ftate  ;  they  do  not  leave  gaming, 
and  then  fall  to  hunting,  but  follow  one  or  the  other  all 
their  life.  Some  have  lb  much  (leadinefs  in  their  tem- 
pers, '  that  they  ftck  after  no  other  happinefs,  but 
that  of  heaping  up  riches  ;  others  grow  old  in  the  fports ' 
of  the  field  ;  others  are  content  to  drink  themfelves  to 
death,  without  the  lead  enquiry  after  any  other  hap- 
pinefs. 

Now  is  there  any  thing  more  happy  or  reafonable, 
in  fuch  a  life  as  this,  than  in  the  life  of  Flatus  ?  Is  it 
not  as  wife  and  happy,  to  be  conftantly  changing  from 
one  thing  to  another,  as  to  be  nothing  elfe  but  a  ga- 
therer of  money,  a  hunter,  a  gameflcr,  or  a  drunkard,  all 
your  life  ? 

Shall  religion  be  looked  upon  as  a  burden,  as  a  dull 
and  melancholy   flate  for  calling  men  from  fuch  happi- 
nefs as  this,   to  labour  after  the  perfeftion   of  their  na- 
ture,   and  prepare  themfelves  for  an  endlefs  ifateof  joy   ^ 
and  glory  in  the  prefencc  of  God  ? 

9.  But  turn  your  eyes  now  another  way,  and  let 
the'trifling  joys,  the  gewgaw  happinefs  of  Feliciana, 
teach  you  how  wife  they  are,  what  delufion  they 
efcape  whofe  hearts  and  hopes  are  fixed  upon  happinefs 
in  God. 

If  you  was  to  live  with  Feliciana,  but  one  halfyeai> 
you  would  fee  all  the  happinefs  that  fhe  is  to  have  as 
long  as  fhe  lives.  She  has  no  more  to  come,  but  the 
poor  repetition  of  that  which  could  never  have  pleafed 


(     9''     ) 

•ncc  but  through   a  littlenefs    of  mind,  nnd    "^'?.nt    •! 
th  oil  girt. 

She  is  to  be  again  drefTcd  fine,  and  kefp  her  vlfitin^ 
day.  She  is  again  to  change  the  colour  of  her  clothes, 
again  to  have  a  new  head.  She  is  again  to  fee  wlio 
arts  bcft  at  the  play-houfe,  and  who  fings  nneft  at  the 
opera.  She  is  again  to  make  ten  vifitsin  a  day,  and  be 
ten  times  in  a  day  trying  to  talk  aiifuUy,  eafily,  and 
politely  about  nothing. 

She  is  to  be  again  delighted  with  feme  new  fafhion, 
and  again  angry  at  the  change  of  fome  old  one.  She 
i.-:  to  be  again  at  cards,  and  gaming  at  midnight,  and 
again  in  bed  at  noon.  She  is  to  be  again  pic afed  \vith 
hypocritical  compliments,  and  again  dilluibed  with  im- 
aginary affronts.  She  is  to  be  again  delighted  with  her 
good  luck  atgaming,  and  again  tormented  with  th.  lofs 
of  her  money.  She  is  again  to  prepare  herftlffora 
birth-nip;ht,  and  again  to  fee  the  town  full  of  good  c  .'d- 
pany.  She  is  again  to  hear  the  cabals  and  intrigues  of 
the  town,  again  to  have  fecret  intelligente  of  private 
amours,  and  early  notice  of  marriages,  quarrels,  and 
partings. 

If  you  fee  her  come  out  of  her  chariot  more  btiikly 
than  ufii-aL  converfe  with  more  fpirit,  and  feem  fulhr 
of  joy  than  (lie  was  laft  week,  it  is  becaufe  there  is  fome 
furprifing  new  drefs,  or  new  diverfion  jufl  come  to 
town. 

10.  Thcfe  are  all  the  fubftantial  and  regular  parts  of 
Feliciana's    happinels  ;   and  flie   never  knew    a  pieafant 
day  in  her  life,   but  it  was  owing  to  fome  one,  or  more, 
H,>of  thefe  things. 

It  is  for  this  happinefs,  that  flie  has  always  been  deaf 
to  the  reafonings  of  religion,  that  her  heart  has  been 
too  gay  and  cheerful  to  confider  what  is  right  or  wrongs 
in  regard  to  eternity  ;  or  to  liden  to  the  found  of  fuch 
dull  words,  as  wifdom,  piety,  and  devotion. 

It  is  for  fear  of  lofing  fome  of  this  happinefs,  that  flie 
dares  not  meditate  on  the  immortality  of  her  foul,  con- 
fider her  relation  to  God,  or  turn  her  thought,  towards 
thofe  joys,  which  make  faints  and  angels  infinitely 
happy  in  the  prefence  and  glory  of  God, 
I 


(     68     ) 

•  But  let  it  be  ©bferved,  that  as  poor  a  round  of  hap» 
pinel's  as  tl'is  appears,  yet  nioft  women  that  avoid  the 
refhaints  ot"  religion  for  a  gay  life,  inufl:  be  content 
with  very  fuiall  parts  of  it.  As  they  have  not  Feliciana's 
fortune  ;  fo  they  mwR  give  away  the  comforts  of  a  pi« 
ous  life,   for  a  very  fniallpart  of  her  happinefs. 

11.  And  if  you  look  into  the  world,  and  cbferve 
the  lives  of  thofe  women,  whom  no  arguments  can  per- 
fuade  to  live  v*  holly  unto  Grd,  ycu  will  find  moft  of  them 
fuch,  as  lofe  all  the  comforts  of  religion  without  gain- 
ing the  tenth  part  of  Feliciana's  happinefs.  They  are 
fuch  as  fpend  their  time  and  fortunes,  only  in  min  ick- 
ing  the  pleafures  of  richer  people  ;  and  rather  look  and 
long  after,  than  enjoy  thofe  dehifions,  which  are  not  to 
be  puichafed  but  by  ccnfiderable  fortunes. 

But  if  a  woman  of  high  birth,  and  great  fortune, 
having  read  the  gcfpcl,  fliould  rather  wifh  to  be  an 
under  fervant  in  f^  nje  pirus  family,  where  wifdom)  pie- 
ty, and  great  devotion  dired^.ed  all  the  alliens  of  every 
day  ,  if  flie  fliould  rather  wifh  this,  than  to  live  at  the 
top  of  Feliciana's  happinefs,  I  fhould  think  her  neither 
mad,  nor  iKelancholy  ;  but  that  (he  judged  as  rightly  of 
the  fpirit  of  the  gofpel,  as  if  flie  had  rather  wiflied  to 
be  poor  Lazarus  at  the  gate,  than  to  be  the  rich  man 
clothed  in  purple  and  Jine  linm,  and  faring  sumpjtuously 
every  day, 

*  But  to  proceed  :  Would  you  know  what  an  hap- 
pinefs it  is,  to  be  governed  by  the  wifdom  of  religion, 
look  at  the  poor  condition  of  Succus,  whoie  greateft 
happinefs  is  a  good  night's  refl  in  bed^  and  a  good  m^al 
when  he  is  up.  When  he  talks  of  happineis,  it  is  al- 
•ways  in  fuch  expreflions  as  Ihew  you,  that  he  has  cn- 
\y  his  bed  and  his  dinner  In  his  thoughts. 

This  regard  to  his  meals  and  repofe,  makes  Succus  or- 
der all  the  reft  of  his  time  with  relation  to  them.  He 
■will  undertake  no  bufinefs  that  may  hurry  his  fpirit?, 
or  break  in  upon  his  hours  of  eating  and  reft.  If  he 
reads,  it  lliall  be  only  for  half  an  hour,  becaufe  that 
is  fufficient  to  amufe  the  fpirits  ;  and  he  will  read  fome- 
thing  that  may  make  him  laugh,  as  rendering  the  body- 
fitter  for  its  food  and  reft  j  or,  if  he  has  a  mind  ^t  any 


(     09     ) 

time  to  indulge  a  grave  thoug'ht,  he  lias  recourfc  to  a 
uicfiil  treatife  upon  the  ancient  cookery.  Succiis  is  an  en- 
emy to  all  party  matters,  having  made  it  an  oblervation, 
that  there  is  as  good  eating  amongfl  the  whigs  as  the 
torics. 

He  talks  coolly  and  moderately  upon  all  fubjecls, 
ani  is  as  fearful  of  falling  into  a  paifion,  as  of  catching 
cold  ;  being  very  pofitive  they  arc  both  equally  injurious 
to  the  ftoniach.  If  ever  you  fee  him  more  hot  than 
ordinary,  it  is  upon  fome  provoking  occafion,  when 
the  difuute  about  cookery  runs  high,  or  in  the  defence 
of  fome  beloved  di'h,  which  has  ofceu  made  him  hap- 
py. But  he  has  been  fo  long  upon  thefe  fnbjefts,  is  fo 
well  acquainted  with  all  that  can  be  faid  on  both  fides, 
and  has  fo  often  anfwered  all  objeclions,  that  he  gene- 
rally decides  the  matter  with  great  gravity. 

Succusis  very  loyal,  and  as  foon  as  ever  he  likes  any 
wine,  he  drinks  the  king's  health  with  all  his  heart. 
Nothing  could  put  rebellious  thoughts  into  his  head, 
unleis  he  fhould  live  to  fee  a  proclamation  againft  eat- 
ing of  pheafant's  eggs. 

1  ■?.  All  the  hoj.-s  that  are  not  devoted  either  to  re- 
pofe  or  nouridinient,  are  looked  upon  by  Succus  as  wafte 
or  f;)are  time.  For  this  reafon  he  lodges  near  a  cofFee- 
hoLife  and  a  tavern,  that  when  he  rifes  in  the  morning  he 
may  be  near  the  news,  and  when  he  parts  at  night,  he 
may  not  have  fir  to  go  to  bed.  In  the  morning  you 
always  fee  him  in  the  fame  place  in  the  coffee-room  ;  and 
if  he  i'eems  more  attentively  engaged  than  ordinary, 
it  is  becaufe  fome  criminal  is  broke  out  of  Newgate,  or 
fome  lady  was  robbed  laf\  night,  but  they  cannot  tell 
where.  When  he  has  learnt  all  that  he  can,  he  goes 
home  to  fettle  the  matter  with  the  barber's  boy  that 
comes  to  fiiave  him. 

The  next  wa(\e  time  that  lays  upon  his  hands,  is  from 
dinner  to  I'upp-r  ;  and  if  melancholy  thoughts  ever 
come  into  his  head,  it  is  at  this  time,  v/hen  he  is  often 
left  to  himfelf  for  an  hour  or  more,  and  that  after  the 
greateft  pleafure  he  knows  is  juft  over.  He  is  afraid  to 
lleep,  becaufe  he  has  heard  it  is  not  healthful  at  that 
time  ;  fo  that  he  is  forced  to  refufe  fo  welcome  a  gueft. 


C    100   ) 

But  here  ha  is  foon  relieved  by  a  feitled  method  of 
playing  at  cards,  till  it  is  time  to  think  of  fomc  little, 
nice  matter  for  fupper. 

After  this  Succus  takes  his  glafs,  talks  of  the  excel- 
lency of  the  Englilhconflitution-,  and  piaifes  that  miuiftei' 
the  uioft,  who  keeps  tlie  befl:  table. 

On  a  Sunday  night  you  may  fonietimes  hear  him  con- 
demning the  iniquity  of  town  rakes  ;  and  the  bitter- 
ePt  tiling  that  he  lays  againfi  them  is  this,  that  he  veri- 
ly believes,  fome  of  them  are  fo  abandoned,  as  not  to 
have  a  regular   meal,  or  a  found  night's  ileep  hi  a  week. 

At  eleven,  Succus  bids  all  good  night,  and  parts  in 
great  frien'dlhip.  He  is  prciently  in  bed,  and  llecps 
till  it  is  time   to  go   to  the  cofile-houfe    next  morning. 

If  you  was  to  live  with  Succus  for  a  twelve-month, 
this  is  all  that  you  would  fee  in  his  life,  except  a  icvr 
cm  fes  and  oaths  that  he  ufes  as  occafion  offers. 

And  now  I  cannot  help  making  ttiis   refle<flion  : 

14,  That  as  1  believe  the  moll  likely  means  in  the 
world  to  infpire  a  perfon  with  true  piety,  was  to  have 
feen  the  example  of  fome  eminent  profeffors  of  religion  : 
fo  the  next  thing  that  is  likely  to  fill  us  with  the  fame 
zeal,  is  to  fee  the  folly,  the  bafenefs,  and  poor  fatisfac- 
tions  of  a  life  deftitute  of  religion.  As  the  one  excites 
us  to  love  and  admire  the  wifdom  and  greatnefs  of  re- 
ligion ;  fo  the  other  may  make  us  fearful  of  living  with- 
out it. 

For  who  can  help  blefTing  God  for  the  means  of  grace, 
and  for  the  hope  of  glory,  when  he  fees  what  variety  of 
folly  they  fink  into,  who  live  v.'itliout  it  ?  Who  would 
not  lieartily  engage  in  all  the  liibours  of  a  pious  life, 
when  he  fees  what  dull  fenfuality,  what  grofs  enjoyments 
they  are  left  to,  who   feck  for  happinefs  in  other  ways  ? 

So  that  whether  we  confider  the  greatnefs  of  religion, 
or  the  littlenefs  of  all  other  things,  and  the  inean- 
nefs  of  all  other  enjoyments,  there  is  notliing  to  be  found 
in  the  who-le  nature  of  things,  for  a  thoughtful  minu  to 
rdl  upon  but  a  happinefs  in  religion. 

15.  Confider  now  with  yourfclf,  how  unreafonably 
it  is  pretended,  that  a  life  of  (inCi  piety  muft  be  a  dull 
and  aiixioas  ftate  ?   For  can  it  with  any   re»,fon  bt  fuid, 


(     101     ) 

that  the  dutic?  of  relig'ioii  render  our  lives  heavy  and 
wicbnclioly,  when  they  only  dtprive  us  of  fuch  happi- 
iiefs  as  has  been  here  laid  before  you  ? 

Muft  it  be  tedious  to  live  in  the  continual  exercife 
of  charity  and  temperance,  to  adl  wifely  and  virtuoufly, 
to  do  good  to  the  utmoft  of  your  power,  to  imitate  the 
divins  perfeftions,  and  prepare  yourlVlf  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  God?  Muft  it  be  dull  and  tlreibme  to  in-.provc 
in  holinefs,  to  feel  the  comforts  cf  confciencc  in  all  your 
aii^ions,  to  know  that  God  is  your  friend,  that  all  muft 
•work  for  your  good  ;  that  neither  life  nor  death,  nei- 
ther men  nor  devils,  can  do  you  any  harm  ;  but  that 
all  your  fufferings  and  doings  are  in  a  fhort  time  to  be 
rewarded  with  everlafting  glory  :  muft  fuch  a  ftate  be 
dull  and  tirefome,  for  want  of  fuch  happinefs  as  Flatus 
or  Feliciana  enjoys  ? 

Now,  if  this  cannot  be  faid,  then  there  is  no  happi- 
nefs loft  by  being  ftridly  pious  ;  nor  has  the  devout 
man  any  thing  to  envy  in  any  other  ftate  of  life.  For 
all  the  art  and  contrivances  in  the  world,  without  reli- 
gion, cannot  make  more  of  human  life,  or  carry  its 
happinefs  to  any  greater  height  than  Flatus  or  Felici- 
ana have  done. 

The  fineft  wit,  the  greateft  genius  upon  earth,  if  not 
governt^d  by  religion,  muft  be  as  foolith,  and  low,  and 
vain,   in  his  method  of  happinefs  as  the  poor  Succus. 

16.  *  If  you  were  to  fee  a  man  dully  endeavouring  all 
his  life  to  fatisfy  his  thirft,  by  holding  up  one  and  the 
fame  empty  cup  to  his  mouth,  you  would  certainly  def- 
pife  his  ignorance. 

*  But.  if  you  ftiould  fee  others  of  brighter  parts, 
and  finer  underftandings,  ridiculing  the  dull  fatisfaction 
of  one  cap-,  and  thinking  to  fatisfy  their  own  tliirft  by 
variety  of  gilt  and  golden  empty  cup?  ;  would  you  think 
that  thcfe  were  ever  the  wifer,  or  happier,  or  better  em- 
ployed, for  their  finer  parts  ? 

*  Now,  this  is  all  the  difference  that  you  can  fee  in 
the  happinefs  of  this  life. 

Tne  dull  and  heavy    foul  may    be  content    with  one 
empty  appearance  of  happinefs,  and  be  continually  trying 
to  hold  the  fame  empty  cup  to  his  mouth  all  his  life.  But 
12 


(      102     ) 

let  the  Avlt.  the  deep  fcholar,  the  fine  genius,  the  great 
ftatefman  the  polite  gentleman,  lay  all  their  heads  toge- 
ther, and  they  can  only  fhew  you  more  and  various 
empty  appearances  of  happinefs  ;  give  them  all  the  world 
into  their  hands,  let  them  cut  and  carve  as  tijty  pleafe, 
they  can  only  make  a  greater  variety  of  empty  cups. 

*  So  that  if  you  do  not  think  it  hard  to  be  deprived 
©f  the  pleafures  of  gluttony,  for  the  fake  of  religion, 
you  have  no  reafon  to  think  it  hard  to  be  redrained 
fnom  any  worldly  pleafure.  For  fearch  as  deep,  and 
look  as  far  as  you  will,  there  is  nothing  here  to  he 
found,  that  is  nobler,  or  greater  than  high  eating  and 
drinking,  unlefs  you  look  for  it  in  the  wifdora  of  reli- 
gion. 

And  if  all  tliut  is  in  the  world  are  only  fo  many 
empty  cups,  what  does  it  fignify  which  yo>u  take,  or  how 
many  ? 

IT.  If  you  would  but  ufe  yourfelf  to  fuch  meditati- 
ons as  thefe,  to  reflect;  upon  the  vanity  of  all  orders  of 
life  without  piety,  to  confider  hoM'  all  the  ways  of  the 
v/crkl,  are  only  fo  many  different  ways  of  error,  . 
blindnef?,  and  miflake  ;  thefe  meditations  would  awa- 
ken your  foul  into  a  zealous  delire  of  that  folid  happi- 
Eel-5  V.  hich  is  only  to  be  found  in  recourfe  to  God. 

18.  To  meditate  upon  the  perfc(5tion  of  the  divine 
attributes,  to  contemplate  the  glories  of  heaven,  to 
confider  the  joys  of  faints  and  angels  living  for  ever  ia 
the  brightneis  and  glory  of  the  divine  prelcnce  ;  thefe 
<ire  the  meditations  of  fouls  advanced  in  piety,  and  not 
fuited  to  every  capacity. 

But  to  fee  and  confider  the  emptlnefs  and  error  of  all 
worldly  happinefs;  to  fee  the  groffnefs  onenfuality,  the 
poornefs  cf  pvide,  the  flupidity  of  covetoufi.efs,  the  vani- 
ty of  drefs,  thiC  blindneis  of  our  paffions.  the  uncertainly 
cf  our  lives,  and  the  fliortnefs  of  all  Vvorldiy  projeds  ; 
thefe  are  meditations  that  are  fuited  to  all  capacities. 
Thej  require  no  depth  of  thought,  or  fublime  fpecula- 
tion  ;  but  are  forced  upon  us  by  all  our  fenles.  and 
taught  by  almofl  every  thing  that  we  fee  and  hear. 

Thisi;  that  ivisdomthatcrieth.  andpiitteth  firth  her 
voic^  in  the  streets.,  (Prov,  viii.  1.)  that  ftaiideth  at  all 


(      103      ) 

•ur  d<  •  rs,  that  appealcth  to  nil  our  ft-nres,  teaclilnj:^  us 
in  pvery  thing  and  every  where,  by  ail  tliat  we  lee,  arid 
all  that  we  bear,  by  births  and  burials,  by  fitknefs  and 
kealth,  bv  life  Jind  death,  by  pains  and  poverty,  by  mi- 
fery  and  vanity,  and  by  all  the  chany^es  of  life  ;  thit 
there  is  nothino-  elfe  for  man  to  lock  after,  no  otlur 
end  in  nature  for  him  to  drive  at,  but  a  happincfs  in 
religion. 


CHAP.     XI. 


That  not  only  a  life  of  vanity^  or  sensuah'tj^  but  even 
the  most  regular  kind  of  life^  that  is  not  governed  ky 
great  devotion,  suj/iciefitij  shews  its  miseries,  its 
Tjants  and  emptiness  to  the  eyes  of  all  the  world.  This 
represented  in  various  characters, 

1.  * /'^CTA  VIUS  is  a  learned,  ingenious  man,  well 
V_>/  verfed  in  mofl:  parts  of  literature,  and  no 
ftranger  to  any  kingdc5m  in  Europe.  The  other  day, 
being  jufi:  recovered  from  a  lingering  fever,  he  took 
upon  him  to  talk  thus  to  his  friends  : 

"  My  glafs,"  fays  he,  "  is  almoft  run  out  ;  and  your 
eyes  fee  how  many  marks  of  age  and  death  I  bear  about 
mc  :  but  I  plainly  feel  myfelf  Hiiking  away  fader  than 
any  ftanders-by  imagine.  I  fuliy  believe,  that  one  year 
more  will  conclude  my  reckoning." 

The  attention  of  his  friends  was  much  raifed  by  fuch 
a  declaration,  expefting  to  hear  fomething  truly  cyxel- 
lent  from  fo  learned  d  man,  who  had  but  a  year  longer 
to  live  ;  when  06la\ius  proceeded  in  this  manner, 
*'  For  theje  reafons,"  fjivs  he,  *'  my  friends,  I  have 
left  (  fFall  taverns  ;  the  wine  of  thofe  places  is  not  good 
enough  for  me  in  this  decay  of  nature.  I  muO;  now  be 
nice  in  wiiat  1  drink.  J  cannot  pretend  to  do  as  T  have 
drne  ;  and  therefore  T  am  refolved  to  furniih  iny  own 
cellar  with  a  little  cf  the  very  bell,  though  it  ^coft  mc- 
ever  fo  much." 


(    1-04    ) 

2.  L  few  days  after  O'Aavius  liad  inade  tlii-.  decla- 
ration to  -^13  friendo,  he  relapft-d  into  his  former  ill nrfs, 
v.'as  committed  to  a  nurie,  who  clofed  his  eyes  before 
his  frj!h  parcel  of  wine  came  in. 

Young  Eagenius,  who  was  prefent  at  this  difcourfe, 
■went  home  a  new  man. 

T  never,  fays  Eugenius,  was  fo  deeply  affedled  with 
the  wifdom  and  imp)rvance  of  religion,  as  when  I  faw 
how  poorly  and  meanly.the  learned  0£lavius  was  to  leave 
the  world  through  the  want  of  it. 

3.  *  Was  all  to  die  with  our  bodies,  there  might  be 
fome  pretence  for  thofe  different  forts  of  happinefs  that 
are  now  fo  much  talked  of:  but  fince  our  all  begins  at 
the  death  of  our  bodies  ;  fince  all  men  are  to  be  immor- 
tal, either  in  mifery  or  happinefs,  in  a  world  entirely 
different  from  this  ;  fmce  they  are  all  haflening  thence 
at  all  uncertainties,  as  fall  as  death  can  cut  them  down  ; 
fome  in  ficknefs,  fome  in  health,  fome  fleeping,  fome 
waking,  fome  at  midnight,  others  at  cock-crowing,  and 
S.11  at  hours  they  know  not  of;  is  it  not  certain, 
that  no  man  can  exceed  another  in  joy  and  happinefs, 
but  fo  far  as  he  exceeds  him  in  thofe  virtues  which  fit 
him  for  a  happy  death  ? 

4.  *  Gognatus  is  a  fobers  regular  clergyman,  of  good 
repute  in  the  world,  and  well  elleemed  in  his  parilh. 
Ail  his  parilhioners  fay,  he  is  an  howefl  man,  and  very 
notable  at  making  a  bargain.  The  farmers  liften  to  him 
with  great  attention,  when  he  talks  of  the  properefl 
time  of  felling  corn. 

He  has  been  for  twenty  years  a  diligent  obferver  of 
naarkets,  and  has  railed  a  confiderable  fortune  by  good 
i^anagement. 

Gognatus  is  very  orthodox,  and  full  of  efteem  for  our 
Englilh  Liturgy  ;  and  if  he  has  not  prayers  on  Wednef- 
days  and  Fridays,  it  is  becauf.  his  predecefTor  had  not 
ufed  the  parifh  to  any  iuch  cuftom.  As  he  cannot  fervc 
both  his  livings  himfelf,  fo  he  niakes  it  matter  of  con- 
fcience  to  keep  a  fober  curate  upon  one  of  them,  whom  he 
hues  to  take  care  of  all  the  fouls  in  the  parifii,  at  as 
cheap  a  rate  as  a  fober  man  can  be  procured. 


(      ^05     ) 

Cognatus  hssl^een  very  piofjjerous  all  his  time;  Intt 
flili  he  has  had  the  uneafmei'.s  and  vexations  that  they 
liave,  who  are  deep  in  worldly  bufineff..  T'axcs.  lo'Ves, 
troITes,  bad  mortg-ages,  bad  u-nants,  and  the  hardnefsof 
the  times,  are  frequent  iubjt(fts  of  his  convcrfaticn  ; 
and  a  good  or  bad  leafon  has  a  great  effcft  upon  hii 
fpirits. 

Cognatus  has  no  other  end  in  growing  rich,  but  that 
he  may  leave  a  confiderable  fortune  to  a  niece,  whom 
he  has  politf'ly  educated  in  expenfive  finery,  by  what  he 
has  favcd  out  of  the  tithes  of  two  livings. 

The  neighbours  look  upon  Gognatns  as  an  happy  cler- 
gyman, becaufe  they  fee  him  (as  they  call  it)  in  good  cir- 
tumltances  ;  and  fome  of  thetn  intend  to  dedicate  their 
own  fons  to  the  church,  becaufe  they  fee  how  well  it 
has  fuccceded  with  Cognatus^  whofe  father  was  but  an 
ordinary  man. 

5.  *  But  now  if  Cognatus,  when  he  firfl  entered  into 
holy  orders,  had  perceived  how  abfurd  a  thing  it  is  to 
grow  rich  by  the  gofpel  ;  if  he  had  propofrd  to  himfelf 
the  example  of  fome  primitive  father  ;  if,  iuQead  of 
twenty  years  care  to  lay  up  treafures  upon  earth,  he 
had  diflributed  the  income. of  every  year  in  the  muft 
Chriiiian  adls  of  charity  : 

If,  inftead  of  tempting  his  niece  to  be  proud,  and  pro- 
viding her  with  fuch  ornaments  as  the  apofde  forbids, 
he  had  clothed,  comforted>  and  relieved  numbers  of  wi- 
dows and  orphans,  who  were  all  to  appear  for  hiui  at 
the  lafl  day  : 

*  If.  inl}c;ad  of  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  bad  bonds, 
troublefome  mortgages,  and  ill  bargains,  he  had  had  tiic 
conftant  comfort  of  knowing,  that  his  trealure  was  fe- 
curely  laid  up,  where  neither  moth  corrupteth,  nor 
thieves  break  through  and  Ileal;  could  it  with  any  rea- 
fon  be  faid,  that  he  had  miifaken  the  fpirit  and  dignity 
of  Ids  order,  or  lelfened  any  of  that  happinefs,  wh.ch 
is  to  be  found  in   his  facrcd  employ  uient  ? 

If,  inllead  of  rejoicing  in  the  happinefs  of  a  fecond 
living,  he  had  thought  it  as  unbecoming  the  office  of  a 
clergyman  to  traiiic  for  gain  in  holy  things,  as    to  optu 


(     103 

*•  If  he  had  th.ought  it  better  to  recotnmend  fome  ho- 
nert  labour  to  his  niece, 'thiin  to  fupport  her  in  idlenefs  by 
the  labour. of  a  curate  ;  betterth.it  flie  (liould  -want  line 
clothes  and  a  rich  hufband.  than  that  cures  of  fouls  flmuld 
be  farmed  out,  and  brother  clergymen  not  fiiifered  to 
live  by  thofe  altars  at  wiiich  thcv  ferve.  If  this  had 
been  the  fpirit  of  Cognatus,  could  it  v/ith  any  reafon  be 
faid,  that  thefe  rules  of  religion,  this  flridlnefs  of  piety, 
had  robbed  Cognatus  of  any  real  happinefs  ?  Could  it  be 
faid,  that  a  li^e  thus  governed  by  the  fpirit  of  the  gof- 
pel,  niLiil;  be  tluU  and  melancholy,  if  compared  to  that  of 
raifing  a  fortune  for  a  niece  ? 

6.  Look  now  at  that  condition  of  life  which  draw  J 
the  envy  of  all. 

*  Negotius  is  a  temperate  honeft  rnan.  He  ferved  his 
time  und!:r  a  mafter  of  great  trade  ;  but  has  by  his  own 
management,  made  it  a  more  confiderable  bufinefs  than 
ever  it  was  before.  For  thirty  years  latt  pall,  he  has 
been  correfponding  with  all  parts  of  Europe.  The  ge- 
neral good  of  trade  feems  to  Negotius  to  be  the  general 
good  of  life  :  whatever  he  commends  or  condemns,  ci- 
ther in  church  or  ftate,  is  commended  or  condemned, 
with  regard  to  trade. 

As  money  is  continually  pouring  in  upon  him  ;  fo  he 
often  lets  it  go  in  various  kinds  of  expenie  and  genero- 
fity,  and  fometimes  in  ways  of  charity. 

Negotius  is  ahvays  ready  to  join  in  any  public  contri- 
bution. If  a  purfe  is  making  at  any  place  where  he  hap- 
pens to  be,  whether  it  be  to  buy  a  plate  for  a  horfe-race, 
or  U)  redeem  a  prifoner  out  of  jail,  you  are  always  furc 
of  having  fo,ncthing  from  him. 

He  has  given  a  fine  ring  of  bells  to  a  church  in  the 
country  ;  and  there  is  much  expeclation  that  he  will 
fcnie  li.ne  or  i.tlicr  make  a  more  beautiful  front  to  the 
m.iikeL-hoLiie.  than  has  yet  been  feen  in  any  place  :  for 
it  is  the  generous  fpirit  of  Negotius,  to  do  nothmg  in  a 
mean  way. 

7.  If  you  a<k.  what  it  is  that  has  fecured  Negotius  froni 
all  fcHiulalous  vices,  it  is  the  fame  thing  that  has  kept 
biin  from  all  ftritlntfs  of  devotion,  it  is  his  great  buhnei's. 
He  ha§  always  had  too  many  important  things  In    liis 


^J. 


(    lor   ) 

kead  ;  Ids  thoiiohts  are  too  much  cmplovtd,  to  fiifTer 
him  to  fall  either  into  a  conrie  of  rakt'iy,  or  to  feel  the 
iiccelTity  of  an  inward  folid  piety. 

For  this  rei'fon  he  hears  of  the  plcafures  of  debauch- 
ery, and  the  pleafuves  of  piety,  with  the  fame  inditTer* 
cncy  ;  and  has  no  more  defirc  of  living  in  the  one  than 
in  the  other,  becaufe  neithei  of  them  conhfts  with  that 
turn  of  mind,  and  multiplicity  of  bufinefs,  which  arc 
his  happinefo. 

*  If  Negotius  was  afked,  What  it  is  which  he  drives 
at  in  life  ?  He  would  be  as  much  at  a  lofs  for  an  an- 
fwer,  as  if  he  was  afked,  what  any  other  perfon  is  think- 
ing of.  For  though  he  always  feems  to  himfelf  to  know 
what  he  is  doing,  and  has  many  things  in  his  head, 
which  are  the  motives  of  his  aclions  ;  yet  he  cannot 
tell  you  of  any  one  general  end  of  life  that  he  has  cho- 
fen  with  deliberation,  as  being  truly  worthy  of  all  his 
labour  and  pains. 

He  has  feveral  confufed  notions  in  his  head,  which 
have  been  a  long  time  there  :  fuch  as  thefe  ;  that  it  is 
fome thing  great  to  have  more  bufinefs  than  other  people, 
to  iiave  more  dealings  upon  his  hands  than  an  hundred 
of  the  fame  profelFion  ;  to  grow  continually  richer  and 
richer,  and  to  raife  an  imraenfe  fortune  before  he  dies. 
The  thing  that  feems  to  give  Negotius  the  greateft  life 
and  fpirit,  and  to  be  moft  in  his  thoughts,  is  an  exptc^ 
tatiou  that  he  fhall  die  richer  than  any  of  his  bulinefs 
ever  did, 

8.  The  generality  of  people  when  they  think  of  hap- 
pinefs,  think  upon  Negotius^;  in  whofe  life  every  in- 
ftance  of  happuiefs  is  fuppofed  to  meet  ;  fober,  prudent, 
rich,  ptofperous,  generous,  and  charitable. 

Let  us  now  look  at  this  condition  in  another,  but 
truer  lignt, 

*  Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that  this  fame  Negotius  was 
a  painful,  laborious  man,  very  deep  in  variety  of 
affairs  ;  that  he  neither  drank,  nor  debauched,  but  was 
fober  and  regular  in  his  bulinefs.  Let  it  be  fuppofed, 
that  he  grew  old  in  this  courfe  of  trading  ;  and  that 
the  end  and  dcfign  of  all  his  labour,  and  care,  and  ap» 
plig,*tion  to  bufinefs,  was  only  this,  that  he  might  die 


(      108     ) 

pofTtfTed    of  more   than   an  hundred  thoufand   pair    of 
boots  and  fpurs. 

Let  it  be  fiippofed,  that  the  fober  part  of  the  world 
fay  of  him  when  he  is  dead,  that  he  was  a  great  and 
happy  man,  a  thorough  ma'^er  of  bufinefs,  and  had  ac- 
quired an  hundred  thoufand  pair  of  boots  and  fpurs  when 
he  died. 

9.  *  Now,  if  this  was  really  the  cafe,  I  believe  it 
would  be  readily  granted,  that  a  life  of  fuch  bufinefs 
■was  as  poor  and  ridiculous,  as  any  that  could  be  in- 
vented. But  it  would  puzzle  any  one  to  fliew,  that  a 
man  that  has  fpent  all  his  time  and  thoughts  in  bufinefs 
and  hurry,  that  he  might  die,  as  it  is  faid,  worth  an 
hundred  thoufand  pounds,  is  any  whit  wifer  than  he, 
who  has  taken  the  fame  pains  to  have  as  many  pair  of 
boots  and  fpurs  when  he  leaves  the  world. 

*  For  if  the  ftate  of  our  fouls  be  our  whole  ftate  ;  if 
the  only  end  of  life  be  to  die  as  free  from  fin,  and  as  exalt- 
ed in  virtue  as  wc  can  ;  if  naked  as  we  came,  fo  naked 
are  v/e  to  return,  and  to  ftand  a  trial  before  Chrift  and 
his  holy  angels,  for  everlalfing  happinefs  or  mifery, 
what  can  it  poffibly  fignify,  what  a  man  had,  or  had  not 
in  this  world  ?  What  can  it  fjgnify  what  you  call  thefe 
things  that  a  man  left  behind  him  ;  whether  you  call 
them  his  or  any  one's  elfe  ;  whether  you  call  them  trees 
or  fields,  or  birds  and  feathers  ;  whether  you  call  them 
an  hundred  thoufand  pounds,  or  an  hundred  thoufand 
pair  of  boots  and  fpurs  ?  I  fay  call  them  ;  for  the  things 
iignify  no  more  to  him  than  the  names. 

Now  it  is  eafy  to  fee  the  folly  of  a  life  thus  fpent, 
to  furnifti  a  man  with  fuch  a  number  of  boots  and  fpurs. 
But  yet  there  needs  no  better  faculty  of  feeing,  no  finer 
underflanding,  to  fee  the  folly  of  a  life  fpent  in  making 
a  man  pofTefTor  often  towns  before  he  dies. 

*  For  if,  when  he  has  got  all  his  towns,  or  all  his 
boots,  his  foul  is  to  go  into  its  own  place  amongft  feparate 
fpirits,  and  his  body  be  laid  by  in  a  coffin,  till  the  laft 
trumpet  calls  him  to  judgment ;  where  the  enquiry  will 
be,  how  humbly,  how  devoutly,  how  meekly,  how  pioully, 
how  charitably,  we  have  fpoken,  thought  and  a£led,  whilll 
we  wertj  in  the  body  ?  How  can  \ye  fay,  that  he  >vh9 


C     109     ) 

has  worn  out  his  life  in  raifinga]!  hundred  thonfandpOiiryls, 
Iras  3.i\t:d  wiler  for  lilmfelt,  than  he  \Tho  has  had  the 
fame  care  to  procure  an  hundred  thoufand  of  any  tiling 
elfc? 

10.  *  But  farther  :  let  it  ncvv  be  fuppofed,  that  Ne- 
gotius,  when  he  firft  entered  into  bufincfs;  happening  to 
read  the  gofpcl  v/ith  attention,  found  he  had  a  much 
i;reater  bLifinefs  upon  his  hands,  than  that  to  whicji  he 
had  fervcd  an  apprentice fliip  :  that  there  were  things 
which  belong  to  raan,  of  much  mere  importance  than 
all  that  our  eyes  can  fee  ;  fo  glorious,  as  to  deferve  all 
our  thoughts  ;  fo  dangerous,  as  to  need  all  cur  caiT  ; 
and  fo  certain,  as  never  to  deceive  the  faithful  labourer. 
Let  it  be  fuppoied,  that  by  reading  this  book,  he 
had  difcovered  that  his  foul  was  more  to  him  than  his 
body  ;  that  it  was  better  to  grow  in  the  virtues  of  the 
foul,  than  to  have  a  larg-e  body,  cw  a  full  purfe  ;  that 
it  was  better  to  be  fit  for  heaven,  than  to  have  a  vari- 
ety of  fine  houfes  upon  earth  ;  that  it  was  better  to 
fecure  an  everlafling  happi-nefs,  than  to  have  plenty  of 
things  which  he  cannot  keep  ;  better  to  live  in  habits 
of  humility,  piety,  charity,  and  felf-denial,  than  to  die 
unprepared  for  judgment  ;  better  to  be  mod  like  our 
Saviour,  than  to  excel  all  the  tradefmen  in  the  world, 
in  buHnefs  and  bulk  of  fortune. 

Let  it  be  Ibppofed,  that  Negotius,  believing  thefe 
things  to  be  true,  entirely  devoted  himfclf  to  (lod  at 
his  firft  letting  out  in  the  world,  refclvingto  purfue  his 
bufincfs  no  further  than  was  confiftent  with  great  devo- 
tion, humility,  and  fclf-denial  ;  and  for  no  other  ends, 
but  to  provide  himfelf  with  a  fober  fubfiftence,  and  to 
do  all  the  good  he  could,  to  the  fouls  and  bodies  of  his 
fcHow-creaturts. 

Let  it  therefore  be  fuppofed,  that  inClead  of  the  con- 
tinual hurry  of  bufinefs,  he  was  frt-quent  in  his  v^rtire- 
ments  :  that  in  (lead  of  rcftlefs  detrres  afie-r  more  riches, 
h'\s  foul  had  been  full  of  the  love  of  God  and  heavcnlj 
afFtdion,  conftantly  watching  againft  worldly  tempers, 
»nd  always  afpiring  after  divine  grace  ;  that  inftcad  of 
worldly  cares  and  contrivances,  he  had  been  bufy  in 
fottiffirrg  his  foul  againft  all  approaches  of  fin  j  that  in- 


(     110     ) 

f^cad  of  coftly  fhew,  and  the  expenfive  generofity  of  a 
fplendid  life,  he  had  loved  and  exercifed  all  inftaiices 
of  humility  and  lowlinefs  ;  that  inrtead  of  great  treats 
and  full  tables,  his  houfe  had  only  furnifhed  a  fober 
refreftiment  to  thofe  that  wanted  It. 

Let  it  be  fuppofed,  that  his  contentment  kept  him 
free  from  all  kinds  of  envy.  That  bis  piety  made  him 
thankful  to  God  in  all  croffes  and  difappointments. 
That  his  charity  kept  him  from  being  rich,  by  a  con- 
tinual dirtribution  to  all  objefts  of  compafhon. 

12.  Now  had  this  been  the  ChriRian  fpirit  of  Nego- 
tius,  can  any  one  fay,  that  he  had  loft  the  true  happi- 
iiefs  of  life,  by  thus  conforming  to  the  fpirit,  and  living 
up  to  the  hope  of  the  gofpel  ? 

*  Can  it  be  faid,  that  a  life  made  exemplary  hj 
fuch  virtues  as  thefe,  which  keep  heaven  always  in  our 
fight,  which  both  delight  and  exalt  the  foul  here,  and 
prepare  it  for  the  prefence  of  God  hereafter,  muft  be 
poor  and  dull,  if  compared  to  that  of  heaping  up  riches, 
■which  can  neither  ftay  with  us,  nor  we  with  them. 

It  would  be  endlefs  to  multiply  examples  of  this 
kind,  to  flievv  you  how  little  is  loft,  and  how  much  is 
gained,  by  introducing  a  ftridl  and  exadl  piety  into 
every  condition  of  human  life. 

I  fhall  now  therefore  leave  it  to  your  own  meditati- 
on, to  carry  this  way  of  thinking  farther,  hoping  that 
enough  is  faid,  to  convince  yourfelf,  that  an  exalted 
piety  is  fo  far  from  rendering  any  life  "dull  and  tirefome, 
that  it  is  the  only  joy  and  happinefs  of  any  condition  in 
the  world. 

IS.  *  Imagine  to  yourfelf  fome  perfon  in  a  confumptU 
on,  or  any  other  lingering  diflemper,  that  was  incurable. 

If  you  were  to  fee  fuch  a  man  wholly  intent  upon  do- 
ing every  thing  in  the  fpirit  of  religion,  making  ths 
wifeft  ufe  of  all  his  time,  fortune,  and  abilities.  If  he 
was  for  carrying  every  duty  of  piety  to  its  greateft 
height,  and  ftriving  to  have  all  the  advantage  that 
could  be  had  in  the  remainder  of  his  life.  If  he  avoid- 
ed all  bufmefs,  but  fuch  as  was  neceffary  ;  if  he  was 
averfe  to  all  the  follies  and  vanities  of  the  world,  had 
no  tafte  for  finery  and  fliew,  but  fought  for  all  his  com- 


(  111  ) 

fort  111  the  hoj^es  and  expeftations  of  religion  ;  you 
■would  certainly  commend  his  prudence,  you  would  fay- 
that  he  had  taken  the  right  rwethod  to  make  himfelf  as 
joyful  and  happy,  as  any  one  can  be  in  a  ftate  of  fuch 
infirmity. 

*  On  the  other  hand,  if  you  fliould  fee  the  fame  pcr- 
fon,  with  trembling  hands,  fliort  breath,  thin  jaws,  and 
hollow  eyes,  wholly  intent  upon  bufinefs  and  bargains, 
as  long  as  he  could  fpeak.  If  you  fliculd  fee  him  pleaf- 
ed  with  fine  clothes,  when  he  could  fcace  ftand  to  be 
drefftd,  and  laying  out  his  money  in  horfes  and  dogs, 
rather  than  purchafe  the  prayers  of  the  poor  for  his  foul, 
which  was  fo  foon  to  be  feparated  from  his  body,  you 
would  certainly  condemn  him,  as  a  weak  filly  man. 

14.  Now  as  it  is  eafy  to  fee  the  reafonablenefs,  the 
wifdom  and  happlnefs  of  a  leligious  fpivit  in  a  confump- 
tive  man,  fo  if  you  purfue  the  fame  way  of  thinking, 
you  will  as  eafily  perceive  the  fame  wifdom  and  happl- 
nefs of  a  pious  temper,  in  every  other  ftate  of  life. 

For  how  fbon  will  any  man  that  is  in  health,  be  m 
the  ftate  of  him  that  is  in  a  confumption  ?  How  foon  will 
he  want  ail  the  fame  comforts  of  religion,  which  every 
dying  man  wants  ? 

*  And  if  it  be  wife  and  happy  to  live  pioufly,  becaufe 
we  have  not  above  a  year  to  live,  is  it  not  being  more 
wife,  and  making  ourfelves  more  happy,  to  live  piouf- 
ly, becaufe  we  may  have  more  years  to  come  ?  If  one 
year  of  piety  before  we  die,  is  fo  dcfirable,  are  not 
more  years  of  piety  much  more  defirable  ? 

15.  If  a  man  had  five  fixed  years  to  live,  he  could 
not  po0ibly  think  at  all,  without  intending  to  make  the 
beft  ufe  of  them  all.  When  he  faw  his  flay  fo  Ihort  in 
this  world,  he  mufl  needs  think  ihat  this  was  not  a 
world  for  him  ;  and  when  he  faw  how  near  he  was  to 
another  world,  that  was  eternal,  he  muft  furely  think 
it  neceffary  to  be  very  diligent  in  preparing  for  ic. 

Now  as  reafonable  as  piety  appears  in  fuch  a  circum- 
flance  of  life,  it  is  yet  more  reafonable  in  every  circum- 
ftance  of  life,  to  every  thinking  man. 

For  who  but  a  madman,  can  recount  that  he  has  five 
years  certain  to  com«  ? 


(     113     ) 

*  AnJ  if  it  be  rcalonafele  and  neceffary  to  ^eny  ovw 
■worldly  ter^pcrs,  and  live  -wholly  unto  Gcd,  becauie 
we  are  certain  that  we  are  to  die  at  the  end  of  five  years  ; 
fiirely  it  mifift  be  much  more  realbnable  and  necciriry, 
for  us  to  live  in  the  fame  fpirit,  bccaufe  we  have  no 
certainty,  that  we  fliall  live  five  weeks* 

16.  *  Again,  if  we  are  to  add  twenty  years  to  the 
five,  wliich  is  in  all  probability  more  than  will  be  ad- 
ded to  the  lives  of  many  people,  who  are  at  man's  ef- 
tate  ;  what  a  poor  thing  it  is  1  how  fmall  a  difference  is 
there  between  five,  and  twenty  five  years  ? 

It  is  laid,  that  a  day  is  with  God  as  a  thoufand  years, 
and  a  thoufand  years  as  one  day  ;  becaufe  in  regard  ta 
his  eternity,  this  diiFe.rence  is  as  nothing. 

*  Now  as  we  are  created  to  be  eternal,  to  live  an 
cndlefs  lucceiTion  of  ag-es  upon  ages,  where  thoufands, 
and  millions  of  thoufands  of  years  will  have  no  proportion 
to  our  everlafting  life  in  God  ;  fo  with  regard  to  this 
eternal  ftate,  which  is  our  real  Rate,  twenty  five  years 
is  as  poor  a  pittance  as  twenty  five  days. 

We  can  never  niake  any  true  judgment  of  time  as  it 
relates  to  us,  without  conlidering  the  true  ftate  of  our 
duration.  If  we  are  temporary  beings,  then  a  little  time 
may  juftly  be  called  a  great  deal  in  relation  to  us,  but 
if  we  are  eternal  beings,  then  the  difference  of  a  fe-i* 
years  is  as  nothing. 

17.  If  we  were  to  fuppofe  three  different  forts  of  ra- 
tional beings,  all  of  different,  but  fixed  duration,,  one 
fort  that  lived  certainly  only  a  month,  the  other  a  year', 
and  the  third  an  hundred  years. 

If  tbefe  beings  were  to  meet  together,  and  talk  about 
time,  they  mull  talk  in  a  very  different  language  ;  half 
an  hour  to  thofe  who  were  to  live  but  a  month,  mufl:  be 
a  very  different  thing  to  what  it  is  to  thofe,  who  are 
to  live  an  hundred  years. 

As  therefore  tim.e  is  thus  a  different  thing,  with  re- 
gard to  the  ftate  of  thofe  who  enjoy  it,  fo  if  we  would 
know  what  time  is  with  regard  to  ourfelves,  we  muft 
confider  our  flate. 

Now,  fince  our  eternal  flate  is  as  certainly  ours,  a.j 
our  prefcnt  ilate  ;   fince  wc  are  a$  sertainly  to  live  for 


(      113      ) 

ever,  as  we  are  now  to  live  at  all  ;  it  is  plain,  that  wc 
cannot  judge  of  tlie  value  of  any  particular  time,  as  to 
us,  but  by  comparing  it  to  that  eternal  duration,  for 
which  we  are  created. 

If  you  would  know,  what  five  years  fignify  to  a  be- 
ing that  was  to  live  an  hundred,  you  niufl  compare  five 
to  an  hundred,  and  fee  what  proportion  it  bears  to  it, 
and  then  you  will  judge  right. 

*  So  if  you  would  know,  what  twenty  years  fignify 
to  a  fon  of  Adam,  you  muft  compare  it,  not  to  a  million 
of  ages,  but  to  an  eternal  duration,  to  which  no  number 
of  millions  bears  any  proportion  ;.  and  then  you  will 
judge  right,  by  finding  it  nothing. 

18.  Conljder  therefore  tliio*  ;  how  would  you  con- 
demn the  folly  of  a  man,  that  iliould  lofe  his  fliare  of  fu- 
ture glory,  for  the  fake  of  being  rich,  or  great,  or  praif- 
cd,  or  delighted  in  any  enjoyment,  only  one  poor  day 
before  he  was  to  die  1 

But  if  the  time  will  come,  when  a  num.ber  of  years 
will  feem  lefs  to  every  one,  than  a  day  does  now  ;  what 
a  condemnation  muft  it  then  be,  if  eternal  happinefs 
fliould  be  loft,  for  fomething  lefs  than  the  enjoyment  of 
a  day  ! 

Why  does  a  day  feem  a  trifle  to  us  nov/  ?  It  is  be- 
caufe  we  have  years  to  fet  againll  it.  It  is  the  duration 
of  years  that  makes  it  feem  as  nothing. 

*  What  a  trifle  therefore  mud  the  years  of  a  man's 
age  appear,  when  thsy  Bre  forced  to  be  fet  againil:  eter- 
nity, when  there  fhall  be  nothing  but  eternity  to  com- 
pare them  with  ! 

*  And  this  will  be  the  cafe  of  every  man,  as  foon  Jis. 
he  is  out  of  the  body  :  he  will  be  forced  to  forget  liic 
diflinclion  of  days  and  years,  and  to  meafure  time, 
not  by  the  courfe  of  the  fun,  but  by  fetting  it  agalnft 
eternity. 

As  the  fixed  (lars,  by  reafon  of  our  being  placed  at 
fuch  diflance  from  them,  appear  but  as  fo  many  points  ; 
lo  when  we,  placed  in  eternity,  {hall  look  back  upon 
all  time,  it  will  appear  but  as  ii  moment. 

*  Then  a  luxury,  an  indulgence,  a  profnerity,  j^  great- 
nefs  of  fifty  years,  Vt'ill  feem  to  everv  one  that  looks  back 

K   y 


(  11^  ) 

upon  It,  ai  tiiff  Tame  poor  iliort  enjoyment,  as  if  he  had 
been  fnatcbed  away  in  his  fiifl  lin. 

Theie  few  lefledllons  upon  tiiriC,  are  only  to  fliew 
how  poorly  they  think,  how  miierably  they  judge, 
who  are  iefs  careful  of  an  eternal  (late,  becauie  they 
Kiay  be  at  fome  years  ciiftance  from  it,  than  they  would 
be,  if  they  knew  they  were  v/ithin  a  few  weeks  of  it. 


C  H  A  P.  .  XII. 


Ccncern'nig  that  part  of  Devotion  which  relates  to  times 
and  hours  of  Prajer.  Of  daily  early  prayer  in  the 
morning,  Ho".v  we  may  improve  our  forms  of  Pray ^ 
fr,  and  increase  the  spirit  of  devotion, 

1.  X  T  AVING  in  the  foregoing  chapters  fiiewn  ths 
XjL  neceflity  of  a  devout  fplrit,  in  every  part  of  our 
common  life,  in  thedifcharge  of  all  our  bufmcfs,  in  the 
life  of  all  the  gifts  of  God  :  I  come  now  to  conlider  that 
part  of  devotion,  which  relates  to  times  and  hours  of 
prayer. 

*  I  take  it  for  granted,  that  every  ChriRian,  that 
is  in  health,  is  np  early  in  the  morning;  for  it  is  muck 
more  reafonable  to  fuppofe  a  perfon  up  early,  becauie 
he  is  a  Chriftian,  than  becaufehe  is  a  labourer,  ora  tradef- 
nian,  or  a  fervant,  or  has  bufinefs  that  wanfj  him. 

*  We  naturally  conceive  fome  abhorrence  of  a  man 
that  is  in  bed,  when  he  (liould  be  at  his  labour,  or  in 
hjs  fhop.  ^^^e  cannot  tell  how  to  think  any  thing  good 
of  him,  who  is  fuch  a  flavc  to  drowfinefs,  as  to  negkdt 
his  buiinefs  for  it. 

*  Let  this  therefore  teach  us  to  conceive,  how  oJioua 
we  muft  appear  in  the  fight  of  heaven,  if  we  are  in  bed, 
fnut  up  in  ileep,  when  we  (hould  be  praifing  God;  and 
are  fuch  llaves  to  dro\Trjnels,  as  to  negleCl  cur  devo- 
tions for  it. 

For  if  he  is  to  be  blamed  as  a  flothful  drone,  that  ra- 
ther chufcs  the  lazy  indulgence  of  fleep,  than  to  per- 
fcnis  his  proper  worldly  bufmefs  j  how   much  aiore   is 


(      115      ) 

he  to  be  reprosched,  ihat  had  railitr  V\t  toKled  np  In  u 
bed,  than  be  raifing-  up  his  heart  to  God  hi  ucls  ofprailc 
and  adoration  ? 

2.  Prayer  is  the  nearefl  approach  to  God,  and  the 
highcfl  enjoyment  of  him  that  v,e  are  capable  ot"  in 
this  life. 

It  is  the  noblell  excrcile  of  the  foul,  the  mofr  exalted 
life  of  our  beft  faculties,  ?.nd  the  higheft  imitation  of 
the  hlelTed  inhabitants  of  heaven. 

When  our  hearts  are  full  cf  God,  fending  up  holy 
dcfires  to  the  throne  of  grace,  we  are  then  in  our  high- 
efl  (late,  we  are  upon  the  utmofl:  height  of  human  great- 
nefs  ;  we  are  not  before  kings  and  princes,  but  in  the 
prefence  of  the  Lord  cf  all  the  v.'orld,  and  can  be  no 
higher,  till  death  is  fwallowed  up  in  glory. 

On  the  other  hand,  deep  is  the  pooref},  dulleft  refrefli- 
nient  of  the  body,  that  is  fo  far  from  being  intended  as 
an  enjoyment,  that  we  are  forced  to  receive  it  either  in 
u  ftate  of  infenfibility,   or  in  the  folly  of  dreams. 

*  Sleep  is  fuch  a  dull,  ftupid  ftate  of  exigence,  that 
even  amorgft  mere  animals,  we  defpife  them  mnft  which 
are  anofl:  drowfy. 

He  therefore  that  chufes  to  enlarge  the  Aotliful  indo- 
lence of  deep,  rather  than  be  early  at  his  devotions  to 
God,  chufes  the  dullefl  refrelhment  of  the  body,  before 
the  higheft,  noblefl  enjoyment  of  the  foul  ;  he  chufes 
that  Hate,  which  is  a  reproach  to  mere  animals,  rather 
than  that  exercife  which  is  the  glory  of  angels. 

Befides,  he  that  cannot  deny  himfelf  this  drowfy  in- 
dulgence, but  mun  pafs  away  good  part  of  the  morning 
in  it,  is  no  more  prepared  for  prayer  when  he  is  up, 
than  he  is  prepared  for  falling  or  any  other  felf-uenial. 
He  may  indeed  more  eafily  read  over  a  form  of  prayer, 
than  he  can  perform  thofe  duties  ;  but  he  is  no  more 
difpofed  for  the  true  fpirit  of  prayer,  than  he  is  difpofed 
for  fading.  For  deep  thus  indulged,  gives  a  foftnels  and 
idlenefs  to  ail  our  tempers,  and  makes  us  unable  to  relilli 
any  thing,  but  what  fuits  with  an  idle  date  of  mind,, 
and  gratifies  our  natural  tempers,  as.  deep  doss.  So 
that  a  per  foil  that  is  a  dave  to  this  idlenels,  is  in  the 
fame  temper  w^hcn  he  is  up  ;  and  though  he  is  not  adeep 


(     116     ) 

y(?t  he  Is  under  the  effe^s  of  it  ;  and  every  thing  that  is' 
idle,  indulgent,  or  fenfual,  pleafes  him  for  the  fame  rea- 
fon  that  fieep  pleafes  him  :  on  the  other  kand,  eve- 
ry thing  that  requires  care,  trouhle,  or  felf-denial,  is 
hateful  to  him,  for  the  fame  reafon  that  he  hates  to 
rfe. 

4.  It  -is  not  pofTible  in  nature  for  an  epicure  to  be 
truly  devout  ;  he  muft  renounce  his  fenfuality,  before 
he  can  reli(h  the  happinefs  of  devotion. 

Now,  he  that  turns  flecp  into  an  idle  indulgence,  does 
as  much  to  corrupt  his  foul,  to  make  it  a  flave  to  bo- 
dily appetites,  as  he  that  turns  the  neceflities  of  eating 
into  a  courfe  of  indulgence. 

A  perfon  that  eats  and  drinks  too  much,  does  not 
feel  fuch  efFeds  from  it  as  thofe  do,  who  live  in  notori- 
ous gluttony  and  intemperance  ;  but  yet  his  courfe  of 
indr.l-ence,  though  it  be  not  fcandalous  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world,  nor  fuch  as  torments  his  own  confcience,  is 
a  great  and  conflant  hinderance  to  his  improvement  in 
virtue  :  it  gives  him  eyes  that  fee  not;  and  ears  that  hear 
not  ^  it  creates  a  fenfuality  in  the  foul,  increafes  the 
power  of  bodily  paflions,  and  makes  him  incapable  of 
entering  into  the  true  fpirit  of  religion. 

And  this  is  the  cafe  of  thofe  who  wafte  their  time  in 
deep  ;  it  does  not  diforder  their  lives,  or  wound  their 
confciences,  as  notorious  adls  of  intemperance  do  ;  but, 
like  any  other  more  moderate  courfe  of  indulgence,  it 
filently,  and  by  fmaller  degrees,  wears  away  tl-ve 
fpirit  of  religion,  and  finks  the  foul  into  a  (late  of  dul- 
nefs  and  fenfuality. 

5.  If  you  conlider  devotion  only  as  a  time  of  fo  much 
prayer,  you  may  perhaps  perform  it,  though  you  live 
in  this  daily  indulgence  ;  but  if  you  conlider  it  as  a 
(late  of  the 'heart,  that  is  deeply  affeaed  with  a  fenfe 
of  itsown  mifery  and  infirmities,  and  delires  the  Spirit 
of  God  more  that?  all  things  in  the  world,  you  will  find 
the  fpirit  of  indulgence  and  the  fpirit  of  prayer,  can- 
not fubfiil  together.  Self-denial,  of  all  kinds,  is  the 
very  life  and  foul -of  piety  ;  but  he  that  has  not  fo  fmall 
a  degree  of  it,  as  to  be  able  to  be  early  at  his  prayers, 


(     117     ) 

•an  have -no  renfon  to  think  that  lie   has    taken  up  his 
crofs,  and  is  following;  Chtlfl. 

*  What  conqucll:  has  he  ^-ot  over  hlmfelf?  What 
right  hand  has  he  cut  off?  V/hat  trial  is  he  prepared 
for  ?  What  Tacri-fceis  he  ready  to  offer  to  God,  who 
cannot  be  fo  cruel  to  hinifelf,  as  to  raife  to  prayer  at 
fucli  a  time,  as  the  drudging  part  of  the  world  are  con- 
tent to  rife  to  their  labour  ? 

6.  *  Some  people  will  not  fcruple  to  tell  you,  that 
tliey  induh'ije  themlVlves  in  il3ep,  becaule  they  have  no- 
tiling  to  do  :  and  that  if  they  had  either  bufinefs  or 
pieai'iire  to  rife  to,  they  would  not  lofe  fo  much  of  their 
time  in  /Ifep.  But  fiich  people  muft  be  told,  that 
they  niiflake  the  matter  ;  that  they  have  a  great  deiil 
of  bunncfs  to  do  ;  they  have  a  hardened  heart  to  change  ; 
they  have  the  v^'hole  fpirit  of  religion  to  get.  For  fu re- 
ly, he  that  thinks  devotion  to  be  of  lefs  moment  than 
bullnefs  04  pleaiure  ;  or  that  he  has  nothing  to  do,  be- 
caufe  nothing  but  his  prayers  want  him,  nwy  be  jultly 
f.iid  to  have  tl"ie  whole  fpirit  of  rf  Ugion  to  feck. 

You  myfl  not  therefore  confider  how  fmall  a  crime  it 
is  to  rife  late  ;  but  you  mull  confider  how  great  a  mifc- 
ry  it  is,  to  want  the  fpirit  of  religion  ;  to  have  a  l>eart 
not  rightly  aiTeded  with  prayer,  and  to  live  in  fucli 
foftnefs  and  iulcnefs,  as  makes  you  incapable  of  the 
mod  fundamental  duties  of  a  ChriRian  life. 

When  you  read  the  fcriptures,  you  fee  a  religion  that 
is  all  lite  and  fpirit,  and  joy  in  God;  that  fuppofes  our 
fouls  rifen  From  earthly  df fires  and  bodily  indulgences, 
'to  prepare  for  another  body,  another  world,  and  other 
enjoyments.  You  fee  Ghriftians  reprefented  as  temples 
of  the  Holy  Ghoft,  as  children  of  the  day,  as  canJi- 
dritcs  for  an  eternal  crown,  as  watchful  virgins,  that 
have  their  lamps  always  burning  in  espeftation  of  th? 
bridegroom.  But  can  h.e  be  thought  to  have  this  joy 
in  God,  this  care  of  eternity,  this  watchful  fpirit,  v,  lo 
has  not  ze»il  enough  to  rifs  to  his  prayer:^  ? 

7.  If  I  v/as  to  defn-e  you  not  to  ftudy  the  gratiScatioii 
of  your  palate,  in  the  uic-tiei  oi  moats  and  drinks,  I 
would  not  infill  upon  thp  crime  of  wafti.ig  your  money 
in  fuch  a  ^vay,  though  it  be  a  great  one  ;  but  I  wo'jild 


(      118     ) 

defire  you  to  renounce  fuch  a  way  of  life,  hecaufe  it 
fupports  you  in  fuch  a  Qate  of  fenfuallty  and  indulgence, 
as  renders  you  incapable  of  reliQiing'the  mofl:  effential 
dodli^ies  of  religion. 

For  the  fame  reafon  I  do  not  innO:  much  upon  the 
criiue  of  wafting  your  time  in  deep,  though  it  be  a 
great  one  ;  but  I  defire  you  to  renounce  this  indulgence, 
becsufe  it  gives  a  foftnefs  and  idlenefs  to  your  foul, 
and  is  fo  contrary  to  that  lively,  zealous,  watchful,  felf- 
denying  fpirit,  which  was  not  only  the  fpirit  of  Chrift 
and  his  spoOles,  and  the  fpirit  of  all  the  faints  and 
martyrs  which  have  ever  been  among  men,  but  muft 
be  the  fpirit  of  thofc  who  would  not  fink  in  the  com- 
mon corruption  of  the  world. 

*  Here  therefore  we  muft  fix  our  charge  againft.  this 
practice  ;  we  muft  blame  it,  not  as  having  this  or  that 
particular  evil,  but  as  a  general  habit,  that  extends  it- 
felf  through  cur  whole  fpirit,  and  fupports  a  ftate  of 
mind  that  is-  wholly  Mrong. 

It  is  contrary  to  piety;  not  as  accidental  flips  and 
miftakes  in  life  are  contrary  to  it,  but  in  fuch  a  man- 
ner, as  an  ill  habit  of  body  is  contrary  to  health. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  you  was  to  rife  early  every 
morning,  as  an  inftance  of  lelf-denial,  as  a  mtthod  of 
renouncing  indulgence,  as  a  means  of  redeeming  your 
time,  and  fitting  your  fpirit  for  prayer,  you  would 
find  niighty  advanta,^es  from  it.  This  method.,  though 
it  feems  fuch  a  fmall  circumftance,  would  in  all  proba- 
bility be  a  means  of  great  piety.  It  would  keep  it  con- 
ftantly  in  your  head,  that  foftnefs  and  idlenefs  were  to 
be  avoided  ;  that  felf-denial  was  a  part  of  chriftianity. 
It  would  teach  you  to  exercife  power  over  yourfelf, 
and  make  you  able  to  renounce  other  pleafures  and 
tempers  that  war  againft  the  foul. 

But  above  all,  what  is  fo  planted  and  watered,  will 
certainly  have  an  increafe  from  God.  You  will  then 
fpeak  from  your  heart,  your  foul  will  be  awake,  your 
prayers  will  refrefli  you  like  meat  and  drink,  you  will 
feel  what  you  fay,  and  begin  to  know  what  faints  and 
feoly  men  have  meant  by  fervour  in  devotion. 


(     119     ) 

8.  Hoping  therefore  that  you  are  now  convinced  of 
the  ueceflity  of  rifing-  early  to  your  prayers,  1  (liall  pro- 
ceed to  lay  bt-fore  you  a  method  of  daily  prayer. 

I  do  not  take  upon  jne  to  prcfcribe  to  you  the  ufe  of 
any  particular  forms  of  prayer,  but  you  will  here  find 
fome  helps,  how  to  furnifh  yourfelf  with  fuch  as  may 
be  ufeful.  And  if  your  heart  is  ready  to  pray  in  its 
own  language,  I  preis  no  neceffity  of  borrowed  forms. 

For  thou^'h  I  think  a  form  of  prayer  very  neceffary  to 
public  worfhip,  yet  if  any  one  can  find  a  better  way  of 
railing  his  heart  unto  God  in  private,  I  have  nothing 
to  object  againfl  it  ;  my  dtfign  being  only  to  affiil  and 
direft  fuch  as  (land  in  need  of  this  affiftance. 

It  feems  right  for  fuch  an  one  to  begin  with  a  form 
of  prayer  ;  and  if,  in  the  midft  of  it  he  finds  his  heart 
ready  to  break  forth  into  other  words,  he  may  leave 
his  form,  and  follow  thofc  fervours  of  his  heart,  till  it 
again  want  the  affiftance  of  his  ufual  petitions. 

*  This  feems  to  be  the  true  liberty  of  private  devoti- 
on :  it  may  be  under  the  direction  of  fome  form  ;  yet 
not  fo  tied  down  to  it,  but  that  it  may  be  free  to  take 
fuch  new  expreflions  as  its  prefent  fervours  happen  to 
furnifh  it  with,  which  fonietimes  carry  the  foul  more 
powerfully  to  God,  than  any  exprefTions  that  were  ever 
ufed  before. 

9.  Moll  people  are  changeable  in  regard  to  devotion. 
Sometimes  our  hearts  have  fuch  ftrong  apprehenfions  of 
the  divine  prefence,  are  fo  full  of  coinpunclion,  that  wc 
cannot  fpeak  in  any  language  but  that  of  tears. 

Sometimes  the  light  of  God's  countenance  (hines  fu 
bright,  we  fee  fo  far  into  the  invillble  world,  we  are 
fo  afFc6led  with  the  wonders  of  the  goodnefs  of  God, 
that  our  hearts  worlhip  in  a  language  higher  than  that 
of  words,  and  we  feel  tranfports  of  devotion,  which 
only  can  be  felt. 

On  the  other  hand,  fometimes  we  are  fo  funk  into 
our  bodies,  fo  dull  and  unaffedled  with  that  which  con- 
cerns our  fouls,  that  we  cannot  keep  pace  with  our 
forms  of  confeflion,  or  feel  half  of  that  in  our  hearts, 
■which  we  have  in  our  mouths  ;  we  thank  and  praile 
God  with  forms  of  words,  but  our  hearts  have  little  or 
no  (hare  in  them. 


(      1=0     ) 

We  mny  provlcls  againfl  this  inconftancy  of  our  hearts, 
by  having  at  hand  iiieh  foriaas  of  prayer,  as  may  bcft 
init  us  when  oar  hearts  are  in  :heir  bell  l^ate,  and  alio 
be  moPt  liktly  to  ftir  them  up,  ^vhen  they  are  lunk  into 
dulnefs. 

10.  The  firft  thing  you  are  to  do,  when  you  are  up- 
on your  knees,  is,  ^vith  a  iliort  filence,  let  your  foul 
phice  itfelf  in  the  prefence  irf  God  ;  ufe  this,  or  fomc 
other  method,  to  feparate  yourfelf  from  all  common 
thoughts,  and  make  your  heart  as  fcnfible  as  you  can 
<if  the  divine  prefence. 

Now,  if  this  recolledlion  of  fplvit  is  neccffary,  as  ^vho 
can  fay  it  is  not  ?  how  poorly  muft  they  jTti-form  their 
devotions,  who  are  always  in  a  hurry  ;  who  begin  them 
in  haftc,  and  hardly  allow  themfelver.  time  to  repeat 
their  very  form  with  attention  ?  Theirs  is  properly  fay- 
ing prayers,   inftead  of  praying. 

If  you  were  to  ufe  yourfelf,  as  far  as  you  can,  to 
pray  always  in  the  fame  place  ;  if  you  "were  to  rcfcrvc 
that  place  for  devotiou,  and  not  allow  yourfeTf  to  do 
any  thing  common  m  it  ;  if  you  were  never  to  be  there 
yourfelf.  but  in  times  of  devotion  ;  if  any  little  room, 
or,  if  that  cannot  be,  if  any  particular  part  of  a  room 
•was  thus  ufed,  this  kind  of  confeoation  of  it,  as  a 
place  holy  unto  God.  would  much    alTift  your  devotion. 

11.  It  may  be  of  ufe  to  you  to  obferve  this  farther 
rule  :  when  at  any  time,  either  in  reading  the  fcripture, 
or  any  book  of  piety,  you  meet  with  a  palTagc,  that 
more  than  ordinarily  afFetf^s  your  mind,  turn  it  into 
the  form  of  a  petition,  and  give  it  a  place  in  yo^ir  prayers. 

At  all  the  hated  Irours  of  prayer,  it  may  be  of  bene- 
fit to  you,  to  have  fomething  fixed,  au'd  foniething  at 
liberty  in  your  devotion-s. 

You  may  have  fomr  fixed  fubj^^t  to  be  the  chief 
matter  of  your  prayer  at  that  particular  time  ;  and  yet 
have  liberty  to  add  fuch  other  petitions,  as  your  condi- 
tion may  then  require. 

For  in  fiance  ;  as  the  morning  is  to  you  the  beginning 
of  a  new  life  ;  as  God  has  then  given  you  a  new  en- 
joyment of  yourfelf,  and  a  frefli  entrance  into  the  world, 
it  is  highly  proper  that  your  firft  devotions  Ihould  be 


(  1^'J  ) 

jMalfV  anJ  thankfgivinfj  to  God,  as  for  a  iv:w  crf.-^tion  ; 
and  that  you  {hould  devote  body  and  foul,  all  you  a.e, 
and  all  you  have,  to  his  Icrvice  and  gJory, 

Receive  therefore  every  day,  a.ji  a  reiurredlion  from 
death,  as  a  new  enjoyment  of  life  ;  meet  every  rifinj^ 
fun  with  fuch  fentiments  of  God's  goodiicfs,  as  if  you 
had  feen  it,  raid  all  things,  new  created  upon  your  ac- 
count; and  under  the  fenfe  of  fo  great  a  bleliing,  let 
your  heart  praife  and  magnify  fo  good  and  glorious  a 
Creator. 

Thcrt-fore  praife  and  thankfgiving,  and  oblation  ofyour- 
■felf  to  God,  may  be  the  fixed  fubjcct  of  your  firfl  pray- 
ers in  the  morning  ;  and  then  take  the  liberty  of  add- 
ing inch  other  devotions,  a?  the  accidental  difference  of 
your  Rate,  or  the  accidental  diiference  of  your  heart 
Ihall  direa. 

12,*  One  of  the  greateft  benefits  of  private  devoti- 
on, confifts  in  adapting  our  prayers  to  the  difference  of 
-our  ftate  and  the  difference  of  our  hearts. 

*  By  the  difference  of  our  ftate,  is  meant  the  differ- 
•cnce  of  our  external  ftate,  as  of  ficknefs,  health,  pains, 
lofTes,  difappointments,  troubles,-  particular  mercies,  or 
jud^^nients  from  God,  and  alMbrts  of  kindnefTes,  inju- 
ries or  reproadies  from  other  people. 

Now,  as  thefe  are  great  parts  of  our  Rate  of  life,  as 
they  make  great  difference  in  it,  by  continually  chang- 
ing ;  fo  our  devotion  will  be  made  doubly  beneficial  to 
us,  when  it  watches  to  receive  and  fandify  all  thefe 
changes  of  our  {\ate,  and  turns  them  all  into  fo  many 
occafions  of  a  more  particular  application  to  God,  of 
luch  thankfgivings,  fuch  relignation,  fuch  petitions,  as 
our  prefent  ftate  more  efpecially  requires. 

*  And  he  that  makes  every  change  in  his  ftate,  a 
reafon  of  prefenting  ujito  God  fome  particular  petitions 
fuitable  to  that  change,  will  foon  find,  that  he  has  ta- 
ken an  excellent  means,  not  only  of  praying  with  fer- 
vour, but  of  living  as  he  prays. 

13,  *  We  arc  likewife  always  to  adapt  fom.e  part  of 
our  prayers  to  the  difference  of  our  hearts,  by  which  is 
meant  the  different  tempers  of  our  hearts,  as  of  love, 
joy, peace, tranquilityjdulnefs  anddrynei^of  fpirit,  anxie- 


(     123     ) 

ty,  d'lfcontejit,  motions  of  envy  anel  ambition,  dark  and 
difconfolate  thoughts,  refentments,  tVetfulntfs  and  pte- 
vifli  tempers. 

If  we  are  in  the  delightful  calm  of  fweet  and  eafy 
paffions,  of  love  and  joy  in  God,  we  Ihould  then  offer 
the  tribute  of  thankfgiving. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  feel  ourftlves  laden  with 
heavy  palhons,  with  dulnefs  offpirit,  anxiety  and  unea- 
nefs,  we  rauft  then  look  up  to  God  in  afts  of  humility, 
confefling  our  unworthinefs,  opening  our  troubles  to 
him,  befeeching  him  in  his  good  time  to  leffen  our  in- 
firmities, and  to  deliver  us  from  thefe  pallions. 

By  this  wife  applicatioji  of  cur  prayers,  we  fhall  get 
all  the  relief  from  them  that  is  poffible  ;  and  the  very 
changeablenefs  of  our  hearts,  will  prove  a  means  of  ex- 
crcifing  a  greater  variety  of  holy  tempers. 

You  will  perceive  by  this,  that  perfons  ought  to  have 
a  great  fliare  in  compofing  their  own  devotions. 

As  to  that  part  of  their  prayers,  which  is  always  fix- 
ed, they  may  ufe  forms  compofed  by  other  perfons  ; 
but  in  that  part,  which  they  are  to  imit  to  the  prefent 
Hate  of  their  life,  and  the  prefent  flate  of  their  hearty 
they  mull  let  the  fenfe  of  their  own  condition  help  them 
to  fuch  kinds  of  petition,  thankfgiving,  or  refignation,  as 
their  prefent  (late  requires. 

14.  But  it  is  amazing  to  fee  how  eagerly  men  em- 
ploy, their  parts,  their  ftudy,  application,  and  exercife  ; 
how  all  helps  are  called  to  their  affiftance,  when  any 
thing  is  intended  in  worldly  matters  ;  and  how  little 
they  ufe  their  parts,  fagacity,  and  abilities,  to  raife  an4 
increafe  their  devotion. 

*  Mundanus  is  a  man  of  excellent  parts,  and  clear 
apprehenfion.  He  is  well  advanced  in  age,  and  has 
niade  a  great  figure  in  his  bufincfs.  Every  part  of  trade 
that  has  fallen  in  his  way,  has  had  fome  improvement 
from  him  ;  and  he  is  always  contriving  to  carry  every 
method  of  doing  any  thing  well  to  its  greateft  heighu 
Mundanusaiwis  at  the  greateft  perfeftion  in  every  thing. 
The  ftrength  of  his  mind,  and  his  juft  way  of  thin^ing^ 
j^ake  him  intent  upon  removing  all  imperfedions. 

He  can  tell  yow  all  the  defers  ^od  ejrQi>  io  all  tbe 


(     12S     ) 

common  methods,  whether  of  trade,  building',  or  im» 
provingland,  or  manuFa£lnres.  The  clcarnefs und  ftreiif^th 
of  his  underftanding',  which  he  is  conilantly  improvin,^, 
by  continual  cxercife  in  thefe  matters,  by  often  digefling 
his  thoughts  in  writing,  and  trying-  every  thing  every 
way,  has  rendered  him  a  great  mufler  in  niofl  conaemd 
in  hum.m  life. 

Thus  has  Mundanusgone  on,  increafing  his  knowledge 
and  judgment,  as  fafl  as  his  years  came  iipon  him. 

The  one  thing  which  has  not  fallen  under  his  im- 
provement, nor  received  any  benefit  from  his  judicious' 
mind,  is  his  devotion  :  this  is  jufl:  in  the  fame  poor  ftate 
it  was,  when  he  was  only  fix  years  of  age  ;  and  the  old 
man  prays  now  in  that  little  form  of  words  which  his 
mother  ufed  to  hear  him  repeat  night  and  morning. 

This  Mundanus,  that  hardly  ever  fa  w  the  pooreftuten- 
fil,  or  ever  took  the  meanefl;  trifle  into  his  hand,  with- 
out confidering  how  it  might  be  made  or  ufed  to  better 
advantage,  has  gone  all  his  life  long  praying  in  the 
fami  manner  as  v»'hen  he  was  a  child  ;  without  ever 
conrulerlng  how  much  better  or  oftener  he  might  pray. 

If  Mundanus  fees  a  book  ofdevotion,  he  paffes  it  by, 
as  he  doc-s  a  fpelllng-book  ;  becaufe  he  remembers  that 
he  learned  to  pray  fo  many  years  ago  under  his  mother, 
tvhen  he  learned  to  fpell. 

Now,  how  poor  and  pitiable  is  the  condu6l  of  this> 
man  of  fenfe,  .who  has  fo  much  judgment  in  every 
thing,  but  that  which  is  the  whole  wlfdom  of  man  ? 

And  how  miferably  do  many  people,  more  or  lefs, 
imitate  this  conducl  ? 

15.  *"  Clailicus  is  a  man  of  learning,  and  well'verfcd 
in  all  the  bed  authors  of  antiquity.  He  has  read  tht'ui 
fo  much,  that  he  has  entered  into  their  fpirit,  and  ca!i 
imitate  the  manner  of  any  of  them.  All  their  thoughts 
are  his  thoughts,  and  he  can  exprefs  himfclf  in  their  lan- 
guage. He  is  fo  great  a  friend  to  this  improveirent  of 
the  mind' that  if  he  lights  on  a  young  fcholar,  he  ne- 
ver fails  to  advife  him  concerning  his  lUidies. 

ClaiTicus  tells  his  young  man,  he  muH:  not  think  that 
he  has  done  enough,  when  he  has  only  learned  langua- 
ges ;  but  that  he  muil  be  daily  conv-erfant  with  the  beft 


<  IM  ) 

air.horf.  rcsJ  them  ng.iin  and  again,  ctJtch  tfeir  fpirit 
b}'  Jlv'nig  vvi;n  tl;fn<  ;  and  that  thcie  is  rc  etlier\vay  of 
bccoirir.g  like  uicii),  or  of  iriaking  hinuclf  a  man  of 
turle  and  judgment. 

How  wife  mii^ht  Cla/Iicr.s  have  be:n.  if  he  h:;d  bnt 
thought  as  juTtiy  of  devotion,  *s  he  does  of  learning-  ? 

He  never  indetd  fays  anything  {liotk'ng  or  cfT^nfiNC 
;jbout  devotion,  becauie  he  never  thinks  or  talks  about  it,. 
It  fi  ffsrs  nothing-  from  him,  but  negleft  arid  difreg-ard. 

The  tvvo  teftaiT.ents  wi^-uld  not  have  had  To  n-uch  as- 
a  pl^e  amongft  his  books,  but  that  thty  are  both  to 
be  had  in  Greek. 

16.  Chfficus  thinks  he  fnfiiciently  (liews  his  regard  for 
the  holy  fcripture,  v^lien  he  tells  you,  that,  he  has  na 
ether  books  of  piety  befidcs  them. 

It  Is  very  well,  Cldiricus,  time  ycu  prefer  tlie  Bibla 
to  all  other  books  of  piety  ;  he  h;i3  tio  judgment,  th;it 
is  not  thus  far  of  your  opinion.. 

But  if  you  will  have  no  other  look  of  piety  brndes. 
the  Bible,  becaufe  it  is.  the  b-ft,  PIov/  comes  it  Clafli- 
cus,  that  you  do  not  content  yourfelf  with  one  of  the 
befl  bocks  among  the  Gietks  and  Romans  ?  How  cornea 
it  that  you  arc  fc  eager  after  all  of  them  ?  How  ton^ci 
it  that  you  thii.k  the  kno-vvledge  oF  one  is  a  nectffaiy, 
help  to  the  knowledge  of  the  other  ?  How  comes  it  that, 
)-ou  are  fo  earneft,  fo  laborious,  fo  e^penfive  of  your 
time  and  money,  to  rtRore  broken  periods,  and  fcrapSv 
of  I'le  ancientt  ? 

How  comes  icthatyou  tellycur  young  fcholar,  he  mufl 
iict  content  hiinlelf  with  barely  underftanding  his  ^.u-^ 
thois,  but  mud  be  continually  reading  them  all,  as  the 
only  means  of  enterir.g  into  their  fpirit,  and  forming- 
his   own  judgment  accoidingto  them  ? 

Why  then  muil  the  Bible  lie  alone  in  your  ftudy  ?  Is 
not  the  ipirlt  of  the  faints,  "the  piety  of  the  holy  follow- 
ers of  Jtfus  Chrili,  as  good  and  necelTary  a  means  of 
entering  into  the  fpirit  and  tafte  of  the  gofpel,  as  the 
reading  of  the  anciexits  is  of  entering  into  the  fpirit  of 
antiquity. 

Is  your  young  poet  to  fearch  after  every  line,  that 
«iay  give  ;iew   wings  to  itis,  fancy,  or  direct  his  imagi- 


(      125     ) 

nition  ?  And  is  It  not  as  reafonable  foi-  him.  who  de- 
fires  to  improve  in  the  divine  life,  to  feaicli  after  evrvy 
ih-ain  of  devotion,  that  may  move,  kindle,  and  inilime 
the  hoi}''  ardour  of  his  foul  ? 

Do  you  advife  your  orator  to  ti'anfl-.-.te  the  befl  ora- 
tions, to  commit  much  (\f  th«;m  to  memory,  to  be  I've- 
quently  exercilin.^-  his  talent  in  this  manner,  tiiat  hahits 
of  thinking-  and  fpeaking  juftly  may  be  formed  in  his 
niiiid  ?  and  is  there  not  tiic  fame  advantage  to  be  mads 
by  h-'^oks  of  devotion  ?  Should  not  a  man  uTc  them  in 
the  fame  way,  that  habits  of  devotion,  and  afpirinfi;  to 
God  in  holy  thoughts,  may  be  well  foimcd  in  ids  foul  ? 

Now  the  reafon  v/hy  Clafficus  docs  not  think  and  jud!.;e 
thus  reafonably  of  devotion,  is  owing  to  his  never 
th/iuking  of  it'in  any  other  manner,  tban  as  the  repeat- 
inj>'  a  form  of  words.  It  never  m  his  life  entered  into 
his  head,  to  think  of  devotion  as  a  ftate  of  the  hcert,  as 
a  temper  that  is  to  grow  and  increal'e  like  our  reaion  and 
judgment,  and  to  be  formed  in  us  by  fuch  a  dili[^Tnt 
iiie  cf  proper  means,  as  arc  iieceffary  to  form  any  other 
wife  habit  of  mind. 

And  it  is  for  want  of  this,  that  he  has  been  content 
all  his  hfe,  with  the  bare  letter  of  prayer,  and  cageih/ 
bciit  upon  entering  into  the  fpirit  of  heathen  poets  and 
orators. 

And  it  is  much  to  be  lamented,  tliat  numbers  of  fcho- 
lars  are  more  or  lefs  chargeable  with  this  txcelnve  folly  ; 
fo  negligent  of  improving  their  devotion,  iind  io  def:- 
Tous  of  other  poor  accomplilhments,  as  if  tliev  thcu^-lit 
it  a  nobler  talent,  to  be  able  to  v/ritc  aii  epigram  in  the 
turn  of  Martial,  than  to  live,  and  think,  and  pray  to 
God,'  in  the  fpirit  of  St.    Auftin. 

Andyet  if  you  were  to  adc  jViundanus.  and  Clafficus,  cr 
any  man  of  bu'anefs  or  harning,  whether  piety  is  !U)t  the 
higheil  perfetftion  of  man,  or  devotion  the  .i:;reat.'-{l  at- 
tainment in  the  world,  they  mud  both  be  fovccd  lo  an- 
fwerii.i  the  allirmative,  or  elfe  give  up  the  truih  of  the 
gofpel. 

17.  Devotion  is  nothing  elfe  but  riglit  apprehensions 
and  right  aiYedions  towards  God. 
L  2 


(      12G     ) 

All  pra^^iic^s  therc-iore  that  improve  our  true  appre" 
heiilions  of  God,  all  ways  of  life  that  tciid  to  nciiriih» 
raife,  and  fix  cur  affections  upon  him,  are  to  be  reck- 
oned fo  many  helps  and  means  of  devotion. 

As  prayer  is  the  proper  fuel  of  this  holy  flame,  fo  we 
muR  life  all  our  care  to  give  prayer  its  full  power  ;  as 
by  alms,  felf-denial,  frequent  retirements,  and  holy  read- 
ings, compofnig  forms  for  ourfclves,  or  uiing  the  btfl 
we  can  get,  adding  length  oftirae,  and  obfcrving  hours 
of  prayer  ;  changing,  improving,  and  fuiting  our  devo- 
tions to  the  condition  of  our  lives,  and  the  ftate  of  our 
hearts. 

Thofe  who  have  moft  leifure,  feem  more  efpecialiy 
called  to  a  more  eminent  obf^r  vance  of  this  ;  and  they, 
Avho  by  the  neceffity  of  their  ftate,  have  but  little  time 
to  employ  thj-s,  mull  make  the  beff  ufe  of  that  little 
they  have. 

18.  There  is  one  thing  mjore  I  would  advlfe  ;  and 
that  is,  to  begin  your  prayers  with  a  pfalm. 

1  do  not  mean,  that  you  fhould  read  over  a  pfalm, 
but  that  yen  fhould  chant  or  fing  one. 

The  diuercnce  between  finging  and  reading  a  pfalm, 
will  be  eafily  undrrAocd,  if  you  confider  the  dliTcrencc 
between  reading  and  finging  a  common  fung  that  you  like. 
Whdft  you  only  read  it,  you  only  like  it  ;  but  as  loon  as 
you  ling  it,  you  feel  the  fame  fplrlt  within  you,  that 
there  feems  to  be  in   the  words. 

You  will  perhaps  fay,  you  cannot  fing.  This  objec- 
tion might  be  of  weight,  if  you  were  defircd  to  fing  to 
entertain  other  people  ;  but  it  is  not  to  be  admitted  in 
the  prefent  caie,  where  you  are  only  advifed  to  fing  the 
praifes  of  God  in  private. 

Do  bat  i"o  live,  that  your  heart  may  truly  rejoice  in 
God,  that  it  may  feel  itfelf  aftected  with  the  praifcs  of 
God;  and  then  you  will  f,nd,  that  this  flate  of  your 
heart  will  neither  want  a  voice,  nor  car,  to  find  a  tune 
for  a  pfalm. 

19.  *  The  union  of  fcul  and  body,  is  not  a  mixture 
of  their  fubRances,  as  we  fee  bodies  united  and  mixed 
together,  but  confiPts  folcly  in  the  mutual  power  that 
thtj  have  of  ading  upon  one  aiiothcr. 


tiL'^v&  <<»/.  Aiaieiik.ftHft>, 


(    ia7    ) 

*  If  two  peifons  v;crc  in  fnch  a  ftate  of  d'.i.ifiKiance 
upon  one  snotlier,  that  neit'uei-  of  thein  could  ac\,  or 
move,  or  think,  or  feel,  or  fiiirer,  or  (lefu::  any  tbin^', 
without  putting  the  other  into  the  fame  con«.lit!or.,  one 
mi.r>;ht  propcily  fay,  that  they  were  in  a  Hate  of  ftrici 
union,  -alth.ough  their  fubllances  were  not  iniited  to'^-e- 
thcr. 

*  Now  thi^  is  the  union  of  the  foul  and  body  ;  the 
fubdance  of  the  one  cannot  be  mixed  or  united  whh 
the  other  ;  but  they  are  held  together  in  fuch  a  (lace  of 
union,  that  all  the  adlions  and  fufferings  of  the  oni,  arc 
at  the  fame  time  the  aftions  and  fufferings  of  the  other. 
The  foul  has  no  thought  or  paffion,  but  the  body  is 
concerned  in  it  ;  tlie  body  has  no  atflion  or  motion,  but 
•what,  in  fonie  degree,  affecls  the  foul. 

"Now,  as  it  is  the  fcle  will  of  God,  that  is  the  caufe 
of  all  the  powers  and  effects  which  you  fee  in  the  world  :  ., 
as  the  fun  gives  light  and  heat,  not  becaufe  it  has  any 
natural  power  of  fo  doing  ;  as  it  is  fixed  in  a  certain 
place,  and  other  bodies  moving  about  it  ;  not  becaufe 
it  is  in  the  nature  of  the  fun  to  (land  flill,  and  in  the 
nature  of  other  bodies  to  move  about  it  ;  but  merely 
beCaufe  it  is  the  will  of  God,  that  they  fhouid  be  in 
fuch  a  (iate.  As  the  eye  is  the  organ,  or  intlr-Jment  of 
fteing,  not  becaufe  the  fliins,  and  coats,  and  humours  of 
the  eye,  have  a  natural  power  of  givin»-  fight:  As  thfe 
ea-rs  ar-;  the  organs,  or  inflrum.ents  of  hearing,  not  be- 
caufe the  make  of  the  ear  has  any  natural  power  over 
founds,  but  merely  becaufe  it  is  the  A\'ill  of  God,  that 
feeing  and  hearing  fliould  be  thus  received  :  So  it  is  the 
fole  will  of  God,  that  is  the  caufe  of  this  union  betwixt 
the  foul  and  the  body. 

20.  Now  if  you  I'ightly  apprehend  this  fnort  account 
of  the  union  of  the  foul  and  body,  you  avIU  fee  a  great 
deal  into  the  reafon  of  all  the  outv/ard  parts  of  reli- 
gion. 

Thii  union  of  our  fouls  snd  bcdiss,  is  tlic  reafon  both 
why  we  have  fo  little  ar.d  fo  much  power  over  our- 
fclves.  It  is  owing  to  this,  that  we  have  fo  little  pov/- 
-tr  over  our  fouls  ;  for   rs  we  cannot  prevent  the  etleits 


(      123     ) 

fif  f.x'"err.al  obj:"'i\s  upon  -'nr  b.  dies,  as  we  cannot  coni- 
inanfl  outv/ard  jauil^  ;  f  we  c^nnoc  a! ways  cominaiid 
the  iinvRid  ftatf  cF  cur  n  iiids  :  bf-caiife,  as  outward 
obie-^ls  aft  vip'M\  our  bodies  ■without  our  leave,  lb  our 
bodies  act  x,\)on  our  rninds  by  the  laws  of  tl^e  vital 
union.  AvA  thus  you  iVe  it  is'  owing  to  this  uwion,  that 
v;"e    brive  lo  hccl^  power  o\cr  ouriVivts. 

On  chtr  other  iuivi  1,  it  is  owing  to  this  union,  that 
Ave  l:iivc  ib  ujuih  p  we;-  over  ourielves.  For  a.s  our 
fculs  in  a  gfreat  meouue  deptnd  upon  (ur  bodies;  and 
as  Ave  have  great  power  over  thefe  ;  as  we  can  mortify 
our  bodies,  and  lemovc  ourfclves  from  objects  that  in- 
ilair-e  our  paiTions  ;  fo  we  have  a  great  power  over  the 
inward  f\ate  cf  cur  ibuls.  Again,  as  the  outward  a£ls 
CI  reading,  pvciying,  finging,  and  the  like,  have  an 
eirL'6t  upon  the  foul  ;  fo  by  being  mafters  of  thefe  out- 
Avard,  bodily  acticus,  we  have  great  power  over  the 
inward  ftate  of  the  heart. 

And  thus  i^  is  owing  to  tliis  union,  that  we  have  fo 
much  power  over  ourfelvts. 

Now  from  this  you  may  fee  the  benefit  of  finging 
pfiilms,  and  of  all  the  outward  ads  of  religion  ;  for  if 
the  body  his  fo  much  power  over  the  foul,  all  luch 
bodily  adions  as  affect  the  foul,  are  of  great  weigia  in 
re!!;;ion,  becaufe  they  are  proper  to  fupport  that  Ipirit, 
wliich  is  the  true  worfriipof  God. 

'2  1.  This  dodtrine  maybe  eafily  carried  too  far;  for 
by  calling  in  too  many  outward  means  of  worfhip,  it 
11]  ly  degenerate  into  fuperftition.  But  fome  have  fal- 
lei  into  the  contrary  extreme.  Becaufe  religion  isjult- 
ly  pkiced  in  the  heart,  they  renounce  vocal  prayer,  and 
other  r.utward  ads  of  worJhip,  and  relolve  all  religion 
into  u  qui>  tifm,  or  n;yilic  intercourfe  with  God  in  iiknce. 

But  fiHce  we  arc  neith.er  ail  foul,  nor  all  body  :  feeing 
none  ox  our  adicns  are  either  fep«rately  of  the  foul,  or 
fe  :  '.raiely  of  tlie  body  ;  if  we  would  truly  pro'lrate  our- 
fciv^^3  before  God,  we  muft  uTe  our  bodies  to  poUures  of 
]ov\l:iu-fs  ;  if  we  defire  tru;j  fervours  of  devotion,  wc 
n:uil  iiiake  prayer  th.e  fr.-quent  labour  of  our  l.ps  ;  if 
we  would  feel  inward  joy  and  dehght  in  God,  wc  mult 


(     !29     ) 

pr[^(5\!re  all  the  outward  acls  of  it,  and  make  our  vokci 
call  upon  our   hearts. 

Now  therefore,  you  may  plainly  fee  the  r-eafon  .'f 
finding  pf:ihns  ;  it  is  becaufe  outward  acliiuii  arc  nc- 
ccf)':;iy  to  fupport  inward  tcmj)ers. 

22.  I  jiave  been  the  lon9;er  upon  this  head,  becaufe  of 
its  iinportance  to  true  religion.  For  thtre  is  no  flate 
of  mind  fo  excellent,  as  that  of  thankfnlnefs  to  God  ; 
and  confequently,  nothing'  is  of  more  importance  than 
that  which  exercifes  and  improves  this  hublc  of  mind. 

*  An  uneafy,  complaining  fpirit,  which  is  fo  me  times 
the  fpirit  of  thofe  that  feem  careful  of  religion,  is  yet 
cf  all  tempers  the  moll  contrary  to  religion  ;  for  it  dsi- 
owns  that  God  which  it  pret^^nds  to  adore.  For  he  fuf- 
f.cieni'y  difowns  God,  who  does  not  ador^i  him  as  a 
Being  of  infinite  goodnefs. 

*  If  a  man  does  not  beli.;ve  that    all  the  v/oriJ   is  as 


1 


l-v-i  n  r-<^       ' 


)UL 


God's  family,  where  nothing  happens  by  chance, 
all  is  guided  and  dire^f^ed  by  the  care  and  piOvivlf:nce 
cf  a  Being  that  is  all  love  and  goodnefs  to  ail  his  crea- 
tures ;  if  a  man  does  not  believe  this  frcm  his  heart,  lie 
cannot  be  faid  to  believe  in  God.  And  yet  he  that  ha^ 
th.is  faith,  has  f.iith  enough  to  be  always  thanhlul  to 
God.  For  he  that  believes  that  every  thing  hsopeBs  to 
liim  for  the  be{l,  cannot  complain  for  the  want  of  fon.e- 
thing  that  is  better. 

If  therefore  you  live  in  murraurings  and  complaints, 
it  IS  not  becau.fe  ycu  arc  a  weak,  infirm  creature,  but 
it  is  becaufe  you  war»t  the  fii Tr  principle  of  religion,  it 
ri;-;ht  belief  in  God.  For  as  thankfulnefs  is  an  exj^refs. 
acknowlcd^^ement  of  the  goodnefs  of  God  towards  \ou  ; 
fo  repinings  and  complaints  are  as  plain  accufations  of 
God'3  v/ant  of  goodnefs  towards  ycu. 

*  On  the  other  band,  would  you  know  who  is.the  grrat- 
<'ft  faint  in  the  world  ?  It  is  not  he  who  pra^  s  moll,  t  r 
fads  mofl.  ;  it  is  not  he  who  gives  moil  alms,  or  is  moll 
eminent  for  tciipyrance,  chaitity,  or  j;uiV:ce  ;  but  it  is  he 
Avh.o  is  always  thankful  to  God,  who  wills  every  thing 
that  God  wiileth,  who  receives  every  thirr.-  as  an  m- 
Oance  of  God's  goodnci's,  and  has.aheait  always  ready 
to  praifc  God  for  it. 


/  (     130     ) 

ATI  prayer  and   devotion,    fallings    and  repentance, 
meditation    and  retirement,     all  facraments    and  ordi- 
nances, are  but  fo  many   means  to  render  the  foul  thus 
conformable  to   the   will    of  God,     and   to   fill   it  with 
^i:^.  thankfulneis  and  praife  for  every  thing  that  comes  from 
f     (iod.      This   is    the   perfcftion    of  all    virtues  ;   and  all 
f*    virtues  that  do  not  tend   to  it,  or  proceed  from  it,  are 
but  fo  many    falfe   ornaments  of  a    foul  not   converted 
unto  God. 

23.  If  any  would  tell  you  the  fhorte{|,  fureft  way 
to  all  happinefs  he  muft  tell  you  to  thank  and  praise 
God  for  every  thing  that  happens  toyou*  For  whatever 
feorning  calamity  happens,  if  you  thank  and  praife  God 
for  it,  you  turn  it  into  a  blefling.  Could  you  therefore 
work  miracles,  you  could  not  do  more  for  yourfelf, 
than  by  this  thankful  fpirit ;  for  it  heals  with  a  word 
fpeaking,  and  turns  all  that  it  touches  into  happin(^fs. 

If  tiierefore  you  would  be  fo  true  to  your  intercll,  as 
to  propofe  this  thankfulnefs  as  the  end  of  all  your  reli- 
gion ;  if  you  would  but  fettle  it  in  your  mind,  that  this 
v/as  the  flate  that  you  was  to  aim  at  by  all  your  devo- 
tions, you  would  tlien  have  fomething  plain  and  viilblc 
to  walk  by,  and  might  judge  of  your  improvement 
in  piety.  For  fo  far  as  you  renounce,  all  motions  of 
your  own  will,  and  feek  for  no  other  happinefs,  but  in 
the  thankful  reception  of  every  thing  that  happens  to 
you,  fo  far  you  have  advanced  in  piety. 

And  although  this  be  the  highefl  temper  that  you 
can  aim  at  ;  yet  it  is  not  tied  to  any  time,  or  place,  or 
great  occaGon,  but  is  always  in  your  pov/er,  and  may  be 
the  exercife  of  every  day.  For  the  common  events  of 
every  day  are  fufficient  to  difcover  and  exercii^  this 
temper,  and  may  plainly  fliew  you  how  far  ycu  are  go- 
verned in  all  your  actions  by  this  thankful  fpirit. 

2  4.  It  irlay  perkaps  be  objecTced,  that  though  the 
benefit  of  this  pra<5llce  is  apparent ;  yet  it  feeras  not 
fo  fit  for  private  devotions,  fince  it  can  hardly  be  per- 
formed wirhout  making  our  devotions  public. 

It  is  anfwered,  Flrfl:,  That  great  numbers  of  people 
have  it  in  their  power  to  be  as  private  as  they  pleafe  j 
fuch  prefoas  therefore  arc  excluded  from  this  excufc. 


..v'*.>c*lGi»*.'iSia.,. 


C      131      ) 

Secondly,  Numbers  of  people  are  by  the  neceflity  of 
their  Rate,  as  fervants,  apprentices,  prifoners,  and  fa- 
milies in  fmall  houftrs,  forced  to  be  continually  in  the 
pre  fence  of  fomebody  or  other. 

Now  are  fuch  perfons  to  negle(fl  their  prayers,  be- 
caufe  they  caniiot  pray  without  being  feen  ?  Are  they 
not  rather  obliged  to  be  more  exadl  in  them,  that  others 
may  not  be  witnefles  of  their  iieglcdl,  and  fo  corrupted 
by  their  example  ? 

And  what  is  here  faid  of  devotion,  may  fu rely  be 
faid  of  finging  a  pfalm. 

The  rule  is  this  :  Do  not  pray,  that  you  may  be  feen 
of  men  ;  but  if  your  confinement  obliges  you  to  be  always 
in  the  light  of  others,  be  more  afraid  of  being  feen  to 
negledl,  than  of  being  feen  to  have  recourfe  to  prayer. 

Thirdly,  Either  people  can  ufe  fuch  privacy  in  this 
pracSlice  as  to  have  no  hearers,  or  they  cannoi.  If  they 
can,  then  this  objection  vanifhes  as  to  them  ;  and  if 
they  cannot,  they  fhould  confider  their  confinement,  and 
the  necejilities  of  their  ftate,  as  the  confinement  of  a  pri- 
fon  ;  and  they  have  an  excellent  pattern  to  follow  ;  they 
may  imitate  St.  Paul  and  Silas,  who  sang-  praises  to  God 
in  prison.,  though  we  are  exprefsly  told,  that  the  prifon- 
ers  heard  them.  They  did  not  refrain  this  kind  of  devo- 
tion for  fear  of  being  heard  by  others.  If  therefore 
any  one  is  in  the  fame  neceflity,  either  in  prifon  or  out 
of  prifon,  what  can  he  do  better  than  to  follow  this  ex- 
ample ? 

Fourthly,  The  privacy  of  our  prayers  is  not  deftroyed 
by  our  having,  but  by  our  feeking   witnelTes  of  them. 

If  therefore  no  body  hears  you  but  thofe  yoH  cannot 
feparate  yourfelf  from,  you  are  as  much  in  fecret,  and 
yoiLr  Father  'who  seeth  in  secret^  will  as  truly  reward 
yoar  fecrecyj  ^i  if  yoii  were  feen  by  him  alone. 


(     152     ) 

C  H  A  P.     XIII. 

•Kc  com  in  ending  devotion  at  nine  o^clock  in  the  mornings 
called  in  Scripture  the  third  hour  of  the  day,  1  he 
subject  of  these  prayers  may  be  Humilitj, 

\.  T  A7vT  now  come  to  another  hour  of  prayer,  which 

JL  in  Scripture  is  called  the  thud  hour  oF  the  day  ; 
but  rxcording  to  our  way  of  numbering  the  hours,  it  is 
calWd  the  ninth  hour  of  the  morning. 

If  the  practice  of  the  faints  in  all  ageS)  if  the  cuf- 
toms  of  the  pious  Jews,  and  primitive  Chriflians  be  of 
any  force  with  us,  we  have  authority  enough  to  per- 
fuade  us,  to  make  this  hour  a  conftant  feafon  of  devotion* 

2.  I  have  in  the  laft  chapter,  laid  before  you  the  ex- 
cellency of  praile  and  thankfgiving,  and  recommended 
that  as  the  fubje£l  of  your  firH  devotions  in  the  morning. 

And  becaufe  humility  is  the  life  and  foul  of  piety,  the 
ground  and  fecurity  of  all  holy  affeftions,  this  may  be  the 
fubje£i  of  your  devotions  at  this  hour. 

This  virtue  is  fo  effential  to  the  right  ftate  of  our 
fouls,  that  there  is  no  pretending  to  a  reafonable  or  pi-- 
■ous  life  without  it.  We  may  as  well  think  to  fee  with- 
out eyes,  or  live  without  breath,  as  to  live  in  the  fpirit 
of  religion,  without  the  fpirit  of  humility. 

But  although  it  is  the  foul  and  effence  of  all  religious 
duties  ;  yet  is  it,  generally  fpeaking,  the  leaft  underflood, 
the  leaf\  regarded,  the  leaft  intended,  the  leaft  defired, 
and  fought  after,  of  all  other  virtues. 

*  No  people  have  more  occafion  to  be  afraid  of  the 
approaches  of  pride,  than  thofe  who  have  made  fome  ad- 
vances in  a  pious  life.  For  pride  can  grow  as  well  up- 
on our  virtues  as  our  vices,  and  fteal  upon  us  on  all 
occafions. 

Every  good  thought  we  have,  every  good  adion  we 
do,  lays  us  open  to  pride. 

*  It  is  not  only  the  beauty  of  our  perfons,  the  gifts 
of  fortune,  our  natural  talents,  and  the  diltindlions  of 
life  ;  but  even  our  devotions  and  alms,  our  faftings  and 
luimiliations,  expofe  us  to  frefti  temptations  of  this  evil 
fpirit. 


(     133     ) 

And  it  is  for  this  reafon,  that  I  fo  earneflly  advifc 
every  devout  peilbii  to  the  exercife  of  humility,  that  he 
miiy  not  fall  a  facrifice  to  his  own  progrefs  in  thofe  vir- 
tues, which  are  to  fave  mankind  from  deRru6lion.  ^ 

As  all   virtue    is  founded    in  truth  ;   fo  humility    is  a  f| 
true  fenfe  of  our  \vcaknef3,  mifery,  and  fin. 

*  The  wfknefs  of  our  ftate  appears  from  our  inabil- 
ity to  do  any  thing  of  ourfelves.  In  our  natural  ftate 
we  are  entirely  without  any  power  ;  we  are  indeed  ac- 
tive beings,  but  can  only  adl  by  a  power,  that  is  e very- 
moment  lent  us  from  God, 

We  have  no  more  power  of  our  own  to  move  a  hand, 
or  (lir  a  foot,  than  to  move  the  fun,  or  flop  the  clouds. 

*  When  we  fpeak  a  word,  we  feel  no  more  power 
in  ourfelves  to  do  it,  than  we  feel  ourfelves  able  ta 
raife  the  dead.  For  we  acl  no  more  within  our  own 
power,  or  by  our  own  ftrength,  when  we  fpeak  a  word, 
or  make  a  found,  than  the  apoilles  acted  within  their  ov/n. 
power,  or  by  their  own  flrcng-th,  when  a  word,  from 
their  mouth  calt  out  devils,  and  cured  difeafes. 

As  it  v;as  folcly  the  power  of  God  that  enabled  them 
to  fpeak  to  fuch  purpofes,  fo  it  is  folely  the  power  of 
God  that  enables  us  to  fpeak  at  all. 

This  is  the  dependent,  helplefs  poverty  of  our  ftate  ; 
which  is  a  great  reafon  for  humility.  For  fince  we  nei- 
ther are,  nor  can  do  any  thing  of  ourfelves  ;  to  ha 
proud  of  any  thing  that  we  are,  or  of  any  thing  that 
we  can  do,  and  to  afcribe  glory  to  ouffelyes  for  thefe 
things,  has  the  guilt  both  of  rtealing  and'lying. .  It  has 
the  guilt  of  ftealing,  as  it  gives  to  ourfelves  ihofe  tb.ings 
which  only  belong  to  God.  It  has  the  guilt  of  lying, 
as  it  is  denying  the  truth  of  our  flate,  and  pretending 
to  be  fomething  that  we  are  not. 

o.  The  mifery  of  our  condition  appears  in  this,  that 
we  ufe  thefe  borrowed  powers  of  our  natuKe,  to  the  tor- 
mentand  vexation  of  ourfelves,  and  cur  fellow-creatures. 

*  God  has  entruftcd  us  with  reafon,  and  we  ufs  it 
to  the  diforder  and  corruption  oftour  nature.  We  rea- 
fon ourfelves  into  all  kinds  of  Ibliy  and  mifery,  and 
make  our  lives  the  fport  of  foolifh  and  extravagant 
pailions  j  feeking  after  imaginary  happinefs  of  all  kinds, 


(     134     ) 

Creating  to  ourfelvcs  a  ;thonfand  wants,  amiifing  our 
hearts  M'ith  ialfe  hopes  and  fears,  ufing  the  world  worfe 
than  irrational  animals,   envying,  vexing,  and  torment- 

M'  ing  one  another  with  reftlcfs  paflions,  and  unrcaibnablc 

W  contentions. 

Let  any  man  but  look  back  upon  his  own  life,  and 
fee  what  nfe  he  has  made  of  his  reafon.  What  foolifh 
pafTions,  what  vain  thoughts,  what  needlefs  labours,  what 
extravagant  proje^s,  have  taken  up  the  gieatell  part  of 
]\is  life.  How  foolini  he  has  been  in  his  words  and  con- 
verfation  ;  hov/  feldom  he  has  been  able  to  pleafe  him- 
fclf,  and  how  often  he  has  difpleafed  others  ;  how  often 
he  has  changed  his  counfels,  hated  what  he  loved,  and 
loved  what  he  hated  ;  how  often  he  has  been  enraged 
and  tranfported  at  trifles,  pleafed  and  difpleafed  with 
the  very  fame  things,  and  conftantly  changing  from  one 
vanity  to  another.  Let  a  man  but  take  this  view  of 
his  own  life,  and  he  will  fee  caufe  enough  to  confefs, 
that  pride  was  not  made  for  man. 

*  Let  him  but  coniider,  that  if  the  world  knew  all 
that  of  him,  which  he  knows  of  himfelf ;  if  they  faw 
what  vanity  and  paffions  govern  his  infidc,  and  what  fe- 
cret  tempers  fully  and  corrupt  his  bell  aftions,  he  would 
have  no  more  pretence  to  be  honoured  and  admired  for 
hisgoodnefs  and  wifdom,  than  a  rotten  and  diftemperedbo- 
dy  to  be  loved  and  admired  for  its  health  and  comelinefs. 

4.  This  is  fo  true,  and  fo  known  to  the  hearts  of  al- 
3Tioft  all  people,  that  nothing  would  appear  more  dread- 
ful to  them,  than  to  have  their  hearts  thus  fully  dif- 
covered  to  the  eyes  of  all  beholders. 

And  perhaps  there  are  very  few  people  in  the  world, 
^vho  would  not  rather  chufe  to  die,  than  to  have  all  their 
fecret  follies,  the  vanity  of  their  minds,  the  frequency 
of  their  vain^nd  diforderly  paffions,  their  uneafmefs,  ha- 
treds, envies,  and  vexations,  made  known  unto  the 
■\rorld. 

And  fliall  pride  be  entertained  in  a  heart  thus  confci- 
ous  of  its  own  miferable  behaviour  ? 

*  Shall  a  creature  il5  fuch  a  condition,  that  he  could 
not  fupport  himfelf  under  the  fliame  of  being  known 
to  thQ  world  in  hi*  real  flate  j   Ihull  fuch  a  creature,  be- 


(     135     ) 

caufe  his  (hame  is  only  known  to  God,  to  holy  angels, 
and  his  own  confcicnce  ;  fliall  he,  in  the  fight  of  God 
and  holy  angels,  dare  to  be  vain  and  proud  oi'  liiinicli? 

5.  If  to  this  we  add  the  fliame  and  guilt  of  fin,  v.e 
fiiall  find  ftill  a  greater  reafon  for  humility.  ' 

No  creature  that  had  lived  in  innocence,  would  have 
thereby  got  any  pretence  for  pride  ;  becaufe,  as  a  crea- 
ture, all  that  it  is,  or  has,  or  does,  is  from  God,  and 
therefore  the  honour  of  all  that  beluni^s  to  it,  is  only 
due  to  God. 

But  i^  a  creature  that  is  a  finner,  defervij-g  no'ching 
but  pains  and  punKlinients  for  the  flianieful  abufc  of  lu5 
powers  ;  if  fuch  a  creature  pretends  to  glory  ior  aiiy 
thing  that  he  is,  or  does,  he  can  only  be  fald  to  glory 
in  his  fliame. 

Now,  how  monftro'j;  and  fliameful  the  n  iture  of  un  is, 
is  fuiftciently  apparent  from  that  great  ciionement  Lhat  is 
iieceffary  to  clean le  us  from  the  guilt  of  it. 

N  >thing  lefs  has  been  required  to  take  away  the 
guilt  of  our  fins,  than  the  fufFerings  and  death  of  tlis 
Son  of  God.  Had  he  not  taken  our  nature  upon  hiin, 
our  nature  had  been  for  ever  feparated  from  God,  and 
incapable  of  ever  appearing  before  him. 

And  is  there  any  room  for  pride,  whilft  v/e  are  par- 
takers of  fuch  a  nature  as  this  ? 

*  Have  our  fins  rendered  us  fo  abominable  to  him 
that  made  us  that  he  could  not  \'o  much  as  re- 
ceive our  pi-ayers,  or  admit  our  repentance,  till  the 
Son  of  God  made  himfelf  man,  and  became  a  fuffering 
advocate  for  our  whole  race  ;  and  can  we,  in  this  (late, 
pretend  to  high  thoughts  of  ourfelves?  Shall  we  pre- 
fume  to  take  delight  in  our  own  worth,  who  are  not 
worthy  fo  much  as  to  afl<.  pardon  for  our  fins,  without 
the  mediation  and  interceffion  of  the  Son  of  God  ? 

Thus  deep  is  the  foundation  of  humility  laid,  in  thefe 
deplorable  circumflances  of  our  condition  ;  which  ihew, 
that  it  is  as  great  an  offence  agalnft  truth  for  a  man  to 
lay  claim  to  any  degrees  of  glory,  as  to  pretend  to  the 
honour  of  creating  himfelfi  "if  man  will  boafl:  of  any 
thing  as  his  own,  he  muft  boafl:  of  his  inifery  and  fin  ; 
for  there  is  nothing  elfe  but  this,  that  is  his  own  pro- 
perty. 


(     136     ) 

6.  Turn  your  eyes  towards  he-aven,  and  fancy  that 
you  faw  what  is  doing  there  ;  that  you  faw  cherubim 
;iiid  feraphiiri,  and  all  the  glorious  inhabitants  of  that 
place,  all  united  in  one  work  ;  not  feeking  glory  from 
oi;eanother, not  labouring'for  their  own  advancement,  not 
contemplating  their  own  perieAionsj  not  finging  their 
own  praifes,  not  valuing  themfelves,  and  dcfpifing  others, 
hut  all  employed  in  one  and  the  fame  work,  all  happy 
in  one  and  the  fame  joy  ;  casting  down  their  crowns  be^ 
fore  the  throne  of  God^  giviiig  glory ^  and  honor^  and 
power  to  him  alone,  ,Rev.  iv.  10,   11. 

Then  turn  your  eyes  to  the  fallen  world,  and  confi- 
dcr  how  unreafonable  and  odious  it  muft  be,  for  fuch 
poor  worms,  fuch  miferable  fanners,  to  take  delight  in 
their  own  fancied  glories,  whilfl  the  highefl  and  nioft 
glorious  fons  of  heaven  feek  for  no  other  greatnefs  and 
honour,  but  that  of  afcribing  all  honour,  and  greatnefs, 
and  glory  to  God  alone  ? 

*  Pride  is  only  the difovder  of  the  fallen  world,  it 
};as  no  place  amongfl  other  beings  ;  it  can  only  fubfifl 
■where  ignorance  and  fenfuallty,  lies  and  falPnood,  lufts 
and  impurity  reign. 

Let  a  man,  when  he  is  mofl  delighted  with  his  own 
figure,  contemplate  our  bleffed  Lord  ilretched  out,  and 
nailed  upon  a  crofs  :  and  then  let  him  confider,  how  ab- 
furd  it  muHibe,  for  a  heart  full  of  pride  and  vanity,  to 
pray  to  God,  through  the  fufFeringsof  a  crucified  Saviour. 

Thefe  are  the  reflections  you  are  often  to  meditate 
upon,  that  you  may  walk  before  God  in  fuch  a  fjpirit 
jof  luimility,  as  becomes  the  weak,  miferable,  and  finful 
ilate  of  all  that  are  defcended  from  fallen  Adam. 

7.  But  you  mull  not  content  yourfelf  with  this,  as  if 
you  was  therefore  humble,  bccaufe  you  acknowledge  the 
reafonablenefs  of  humility,  and  declare  againfl  pride. 

You  would  not  imagine  yourfelf  to  be  devout,  be- 
caufe  in  your  judgment  you  approved  of  prayers,  and 
often  declared  your  mind  in  favour  of  devotion.  Yet 
how  laany  people  imagine  themfelves  humble  enough, 
for  no  other  reafon,  but  becaufe  they  often  commend 
humility,  and  m^ke  vehement  declarations  againft 
pride  t 


(   isr  ) 

Coccus  is  a  rich  man,  of  good  birth,  ?.nd  very  fine 
parts  ;  is  very  full  of  every  thing  that  he  fays,  or  docs, 
and  never  imagines  it  polHble  for  fuch  a  judgment  as 
his  to  be  miftaken.  He  can  bear  no  contradiftion,  and 
difcovers  the  weaknefs  of  your  underftanding,  as  foon 
as  ever  you  oppofe  him.  C«cu.s  would  have  been  very 
religious,  but  that  he  always  thought  he  was  fo. 

There  is  nothing  fo  odious  to  Csccus  as  a  proud  man  ; 
and  the  misfortune  is,  that  in  this  he  is  fo  very  quick- 
fighted,  that  he  difcovers  in  almoft  every  body,  fome 
flrokes  of  vanity. 

On  the  otiier  hand,  he  is  exceeding  fond  of  humble 
and  modeft  perfons.  Humility,  fays  he,  is  fo  amiable 
a  quality,  that  it  forces  our  cfteem  wherever  we  meet 
■with  it.  There  is  no  poffibiiity  of  defpifing  the  meanefl 
perfon  that  has  it,  or  of  efteeming  the  greatefl  man  that 
wants  it. 

Cxcus  no  more  fufpeAs  hirafelf  to  be  proud,  than  he 
fufpefts  his  want  of  fenfe.  And  the  reafon  of  it  is,  bc- 
caufe  1ie  always  finds  himfelf  fo  in  love  with  humility, 
and  fo  enraged  at  pride. 

It  is  very  true,  Cxcus,  you  fpeak  fmcerely,  when 
you  fay  you  love  humility,  and  abhor  pride.  You  are 
no  hypocrite,  you  fpeak  the  truefentiments  of  your  mind  ; 
but  then  take  this  aloug  with  you,  you  only  love  iiu- 
mility,  and  hate  pride  in  other  people.  You  never  once 
in  your  life  thought  of  any  other  humility,  or  of  any 
other  pride,  than  that  which  you  have  feen  in  other 
people. 

8.  The  cafe  of  Crccus  is  a  common  cafe  ;  many  peo- 
ple live  in  all  the  inftances  of  piiiJe,  and  yet  n-'vcr  fuf- 
pe£l  themfelves,  becauie  they  dillike  proud  p-::op;e,  and 
are  pleafed  with  humility  and  modctly,  wiicrever  they 
find  them. 

All  their  fpeeches  in  favour  of  humility,  and  all 
their  railings  againl\  pride,  are  looked  upon  as  eftccis 
of  their  own  humble  fpirit.  * 

Whereas  in  truth,  thefe  arc  fo  far  from  being  proofs 
of  humility,  that  they  are  great  arguments  of  the  waut 
of  it, 

M  2 


(     138     ) 

*  For  the  fuller  of  pride  any  one  is  himfelf,  the 
more  impatient  -will  he  be  at  the  fmulieft  inftances  of 
it  in  other  people.  And  the  lef?  humility  any  one  has 
in  his  own  mind,  the  more  will  he  demand  it  in  ether 
people, 

*  You  miift  therefore  aft  by  a  quite  contrary  mea- 
fure,  and  reckon  yourfelf  only  fo  far  humble,  as  yen 
impofc  every  inftance  of  humility  upon  yourfelf,  and 
never  call  for  it  in  other  people.  So  far  an  enemy  to 
pride,  as  you  never  fpare  it  in  yourfelf,  nor  ever  cenfure 
it  in  other  perfons. 

The  loving  humility  is  of  no  benefit  to  you,  but  fo 
far  as  all  your  own  thoughts,  Avords,  and  actions  are 
governed  by  it.  And  the  hating  of  pride  does  you  no 
good,  but  fo  far  as  you  hate  to  harbour  any  degree  of 
it  in  your  own  heart. 

NoAv  in  order  to  fet  out  in  the  pra£lice  of  humility, 
you  mud  take  it  for  granted  that  you  are  proud,  that 
you  have  been  fo  all  your  life. 

You  (hould  believe  aUb  that  it  is  your  greateft  weak- 
nei's,  that  your  heart  is  moft  fubjeft  to  it,  that  it  is  fo 
conftantly  ftealing  upon  you,  you  have  rtafon  to  fufpedl 
its  approaches  in  all  your  adlions." 

For  there  is  no  one  vice  that  is  more  deeply  rooted 
in  our  nature,  or  that  receives  fuch  conftant  nourifli- 
ment  from  almofl  every  thing  that  we  tl."  ik  or  do. 
There  being  hardly  any  thing  in  the  world,  that  we 
■want  or  ufe,  or  any  allien  or  duty  of  life,  but  pride 
finds  fome  means  or  other  to  take  hold  of  it.  So  that 
at  vvhat  time  foever  we  begin  to  offer  ourlVlves  to  God, 
ive  can  hardly  be  furer  of  any  thing,  than  that  we  have 
a  great  deal  of  pricle  to  repent  of. 

If  therefore  you  find  it  difagrecable  to  entertain  this 
opinion  of  yourfelf,  and  that  you  cannot  put  yourfelf 
amongft  thofe  that  want  to  be  cured  of  pride,  you  may 
be  as  fure,  as  if  an  angel  from  heaven  had  told  you, 
that  you  have  not  only  much,  but  all  your  humility  to 
feek. 

*  For  you  can  have  no  greater  flgn  of  a  confirmed 
pride,  than  when  you  think  that  you  are  humble  e- 
iiough.     He  that  thinks  h«  loves  God  enough,  fhews 


•n*,', 


(     159     ) 

himfclf  to  be  an  entire  Rran^jer  to  tliat  holy  prsinon  ; 
lo  !ie  that  thinks  he  has  humility  enough,  fliVws  thi; 
he  is  not  fo  much  as  a  beginner  in  the  pracftice  of  true 
humility. 

9.  Every  perfon  therefore,  when  he  firR  ap|:lics  him- 
felf  to  the  excicife  of  humility,  rauft  confuler  hinjlcif 
as  a  learner,  who  is  to  learn  ibinethir.g  that  is  cotitrary 
to  all  his  former  tempers  and  habits  of  mm  J. 

He  has  not  only  much  to  learn,  but  h:.  has  alio  a 
great  deal  to  unlearn  :  He  is  to  forget  ana  lay  afide  his 
own  fpirit,  which  has  been  a  long  while  fixing  and 
forming  itfelf  ;  he  nnift  forget,  and  depart  from  abun- 
dance of  pallions  and  opinions,  which  tlie  fafni^m  and 
vogue,  and  fpirit  of  the  world,  have  aiadc  n^tnrid  to 
him. 

He  nuiftlayafide  the  opinions  and  pafTions  which  he 
has  received  from  the  world,  becaufe  the  vogue  and 
falhion  of  the  world,  by  which  we  have  been  carried 
away,  as  in  a  torrent,  before  we  could  pafs  riglit  judg- 
ments of  the  value  of  things,  is  utterly  contrary  to  iiu- 
niility. 

The  Devil  is  called  in  Solpture,  the  prince  of  this 
"world,  becaufe  he  has  great  p^jwer  in  it,  becaufe  many 
of  its  rules  and  principles  are  invented  by  this  evil  fpi- 
rit, to  feparatc  us  from  God,  and  prevent  our  return  to 
happinefs. 

Now  according  to  the  fpirit  of  this  world,  whofe 
corrupt  air  we  have  all  breathed,  there  are  many  things 
that  pafs  for  great,  and  honourable,  and  defirable,  which 
yet  are  fo  far  from  being  fo,  that  the  true  greatnefs  and 
honour  of  our  nature  confills  in  the  not  deflring  them. 

To  abound  in  wealth,  to  have  fine  houfes.  and  rich 
clothes,  to  be  attended  with  fplendor  and  equipage,  to 
be  beautiful  in  our  perfons,  to  have  titles  of  dignity, 
to' be  above  our  fellow  creatures,  to  command  the'bows 
and  obeifance  of  other  people,  to  be  looked  on  with 
admiiation,  to  fubdt.e  all  that  oppofe  us,  to  fet  out 
ourfclves  In  as  much  iplendor  as  we  can,  to  live  highly 
and  magnificently,  to  eat  and  drink,  and  delight  our- 
felves  in  the  moft  coflly  m-.ini;cr,  thefe  are  the  great, 
the  honourable,  the  defirable  things,  to  which  the  fpirit 


(     140     ) 

of  the  world  turns  the  eyes  of  all  people.  And  many  a. 
man  is  afraid  of  hot  engaging  in  the  purfuit  of  thefe 
things,  left  the  world  (hould  take  him  for  a  fool. 

10.  The  hiftory  of  the  gofpel,  is  chiefly  the  hiftory 
of  Chrift's  conqueft  over  the  fpirit  of  the  world.  And 
the  number  of  true  -Chriftians,  is  only  the  number  of 
thofe,  who  following  the  Spirit  of  Ghrift,  have  lived 
contrary  to  this   fpirit  of  the  world. 

*'  If  any  man  hath  not  the  fpirit  of  Chrin:,  he  is  none 
of  his.  Again,  Whofoever  is  born  of  God  overcometh 
the  world.  S-^-t  your  afFetlions  on  things  above,  and  not 
on  things  of  the  earth  ;  for  ye  are  dead,  and  your  life  is 
hid  with  Chrift;  in  God."  This  is  the  language  of  the 
whole  New  Tefiament.  This  is  the  mark  of  chriftianity ; 
you  are  to  be  dead,  that  is,  dead  to  the  fpirit  and  temper 
of  tlie  world,  and  live  a  new  life  in  the  Spirit  of  Jefus 
Chrift. 

But  notwithftanding  the  plainnefs  of  thefe  doclrines, 
moft  Chriftians  live  and  die  flaves  to  the  cuftoms  and 
tempers  of  the  world. 

How  many  people  fwell  with  pride  and  vanity,  for 
fuch  things  as  they  would  not  value  at  all,  but  that  they 
are  admired  in  the  world  ? 

Would  a  man  take  ten  years  more  drudgery  in  bufinefs 
to  add  two  horfes  more  to  his  coach,  but  that  he  knows, 
that  the  world  admires  a  coach  and  iix?  How  fearful 
are  many  people  of  having  their  houfes  poorly  fnrnifti- 
ed,  or  themfelves  meanly  clothed,  for  this  only  reafon, 
left  the  world  ftiould  place  them  among  low  and  mean 
people  ? 

Many  a  man  would  drop  a  rcfentment,  and  forgive 
an  affront,  but  that  he  is  afraid,  if  he  fhould,  the  world 
would  not  forgive  him. 

How  many  would  pra£life  Ghriftian  temperance  and 
fobriety,  v,'ere  it  not  for  the  cenfure  which  the  world 
paff.s  upon  fuch  a  life  ? 

Others  have  frequent  intentions  of  living  up  to  the 
rules  of  Ghriftian  perfedion,  but  they  are  frighted  by 
conlidering  what  the  world  would  fay  of  them. 

1  I.  Thus  they  dare  not  attempt  to  be  emijient  in  the 
f3ght  of  God^  for  fear  of  being  little  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world. 


(     141     ) 

From  this-  quarter  arifes  the  greatefV  difficulty  ef  i)i;- 
mllity  becaule  it  cannot  fubnft  in  any  mind,  but  fo 
Tar  as  it  is  dead  to  the  world. 

You  can  make  no  Hand  agninft  the  afTaults  of  pride, 
liumility  can  have  no  place  in  your  foul,  till  you  flop 
the  powf.r  of  the  v/orld  over  you,  and  refolve  againft  a 
blind  obedience  to  its  laws. 

For  indeed  as  great  as  the  power  of  the  world  is,  it  is 
all  built  upon  a  blind  obedience. 

Alk  who  you  will,  learned  or  unlearned,  every  one 
feems  to  know  and  confcfs,  that  the  general  temper 
and  fpirit  of  the  world,  is  nothing  elfe  but  humour,  fol- 
ly, and  extravagance. 

Who  will  not  own  that  the  wifdom  of  philofoph.y, 
the  piety  of  religion,  was  always  confined  to  a  fmall 
nuuiber  ?  And  is  not  this  exprefsly  owning  that  the  com- 
mon fpirit  and  temper  of  the  woild,  is  neither  according 
to  the  wifdom  of  philofophy,  nor  the  piety  of  religion  ? 

Therefore  yeu  fhould  not  think  it  a  hard  faying,  that 
in  order  to  be  humble,  you  muft  withdraw  your  obedi- 
ence from  that  vulgar  fpirit,  which  gives  laws  to  fops 
and  coquets,  and  form  your  judgments  according  to  tiic 
wifdom  of  philofophy,  and  the  piety  of  religion. 

12.  *  Again,  To  lelTen  your  regard  to  the  opinion 
of  the  world,  tiiink  how  foon  the  world  will  difrc  gard 
you,  and  have  no  more  thought  or  concern  ab(Hit  you, 
than  about  the  pooreft  animal  that  died  in  a  ditch. 

*  Your  friends,  if  they  can,  may  bury  you  with 
fomc  diilincUon,  and  fct  up  a  monument,  to  let  poite- 
rity  fee  tiiat  your  dud  lies  under  fuch  a  flone  ;  and  wlien 
that  is  done,  all  is  done.  Your  place  is  filled  up  by 
another,  the  world  is  juil:  m  the  fame  ftate  it  Avas,  you 
are  blotted  out  of  its  fight,  and  as  much  forgotten  by 
the  world,  as  if  you  had  never  belonged  to  it. 

*  Think  upon  the  rich,  the  great,  and  the  learned, 
pcrfons.  that  have  made  great  figures,  and  been  high 
in  the  ef^eem  of  the  world  ;  many  of  them  died  in  your 
time,  and  yet  they  are  funk,  and  loft,  and  gone,  and 
as  much  difregarded  by  the  world,  as  if  they  had  been 
only  fomany  bubbles  of  water* 


(     142     ) 

Think  again,  how  many  poor  fouls  fee  heaven  lofl, 
and  lie  now  expecting  a  mifcral)le  eternity,  for  their 
homage  to  a  world,  that  thinks  itfelf  every  whit  us 
well  without  tlicm,  and  isjufl  as  merry  as  it  was,  when 
they  were  in  it. 

Is  it  therefore  worth  your  while  to  lofe  the  fmalleft 
degree  of  virtue,  for  the  fake  of  pleafmg  fo  bad  a  maf- 
tcr,   and  fo  falfe  a  friend  as  the  world  is  ? 

Is  it  worth  your  while  to  bow  the  knee  to  fuch  an 
idol  as  this,  that  fofoonwill  have  neither  eyes  nor  eais, 
nor  a  heart  to  rcgaid  you,  inftead  of  ferving  that  great, 
and  holy,  and  mighty  God,  that  will  make  all  his  fer- 
vants  partakers  of  his  own  eternity  ? 

Will  you  let  the  fear  of  a  falfe  world,  that  has  no 
love  for  you,  keep  you  from  th-"  fear  of  that  God  who 
has  only  created  you  that  he  may  love  and  blefs  you 
to  all  eternity  ? 

13.  Confider  our  bleffed  Lord's  wirds  :  They  ai'c  rut 
of  this  world,  as  I  am  not  of  this  world,  Tiiis  is  the 
flate  of  chriflianity  with  regard  to  this  world.  If  you 
are  not  thus  out  of,  and  contrary  to  the  world,  you 
\jdnt  the  diflinguifhing  mark  of  chrifVian'ty  ;  you  do 
not  belong  to  Chrift,  but  by  being  out  of  the  world,  as 
lie  was  out  of  it. 

We  may  deceive  ourfelves,  if  we  pleafe,  with  foft- 
ening  comments  upon  thefe  words  but  they  are,  and 
will  be  underftood  in  their  firfl:  fimplicity  and  plainnefs, 
by  every  one  that  reads  them  in  the  lame  fpirit  that 
our  bleited  Lord  fpoke  them.  And  to  underftand  them 
in  any  lower  meaning,  is  to  let  carnal  wifdom  explain 
away  that  do^lrine,  by  which  itfelf  was  to  be  deflroytd, 

Chridianity  has  placed  us  out  of,  and  above  the 
world  ;  and  we  fall  from  our  calling,  as  foon  as  we  fall 
into  the  tempers  of  the  Avorld. 

Now  as  it  was  the  fpirit  of  the  world  that  nailed  cur 
blelTed  Lord  to  the  crofs  ;  fo  every  man  that  has  the 
.Spirit  of  Chrift,  that  oppofes  the  world  as  he  did,  will 
certainly  be  crucified  by  the  world  fome  way  or  other. 

For  chril\lanlty  flill  lives  in  the  fame  world  that 
Chrift  did  ;  and  thefe  two  will  be  utter  enemies,  till 
the  kingdom  of  darkncfs  is  entirely  at  an  eiid. 


^£i 


'^'^■:^:'>;';il*^. 


(     143     ) 

H:i^  you  lived  with  our  Saviour  as  his  true  clifci})]?, 
you  had  theu  heen  hated  as  he  was  ;  and  if  you  now 
live  in  his  fpirit,  the  world  will  be  the  Tame  enemy  to 
you  now,  that  it  was  to  him  then. 

14.  "  If  ye  were  of  the  world,"  faith  our  bleffed  Lord, 
'^  the  world  would  love  its  own  ;  but  becaufe  ye  are  not 
of  the  world,  but  I  have  chofen  you  out  of  the  world, 
therefore  the  work!  hateth  you."   John  xv.   19. 

We  are  apt  to  lofe  the  true  meaning  of  thefe  Avords, 
by  coniidering  them  only  as  an  hiftorical  defcription  of 
fomething  that  was  the  flate  of  our  Saviour  and  iiis  dif- 
ciples  at  that  time.  But  this  is  reading  the  fcripture  as 
a  dead  letter  :  for  they  exadlly  defcribe  the  flate  of  true 
Chririians  at  this,  ajid  all  other  times,  to  the  end  of 
the  world. 

For  as  true  chridianity  is  nothing  elfe  but  the  Spirit 
of  Chrifi:  ;  fo  whether  that  fpirit  appeaj  in  the  perfoii 
of  Chrill  himfelf,  or  his  apofties,  or  followers  in  any 
age,  it  is  the  fame  thing  ;  whoever  hath  his  Spirit,  v/ill 
be  hated,  deipifed,  and  condemned  by  the  world  as  he 
was. 

For  the  Avorld  will  always  love  its  ov/n,  and  none 
but  its  own  :  this  is  as  certain  and  unchangeable,  as 
the  contrariety  betwixt  light  and  darkncfa. 

15.  You  will  perhaps  fay,  that  the  world  is  now  be- 
come Chriftian,  at  leafl  that  part  of  it  where  we  live  ; 
aud  therefore  the  world  is  not  now.  to  be  confidered  in 
that  (late  of  oppofition  to  chriftianity,  as  when  it  was 
heathen. 

*  It  is  granted,  the  world  now  profefTeth  chriftianity. 
But  will  any  one  fay,  that  this  Chriflian  world  is  of  the 
Spirit  of  Chrifi;?  Are  its  general  tempers  the  tempers  of 
Chrift  ?  Are  the  pafHons  of  fcnfuality,  fclf-love,  pride, 
covetoufnefs,  ambition  and  vain-glory,  lefs  contrary 
to  the  fpirit  of  the  gofpel,  now  they  are  among  Chrif- 
tians,  than  when  they  were  among  heathens  ?  Or,  will 
you  fay,  that  the  tempers  and  palTions  of  the  heathen 
world  are  lofl  and  gone  ? 

16.  And  indeed  the  world,  by  profeffing  chrifliani- 
J.ty,  is  fo  far  from  being  a  lefs  dangerous  enemy  than  it 
**Va3 ,  before,  that   it  has  by  its  favours  de[\royed  more 


(     144     ) 

Chrirtlans,  than  ever  it  did  by  the  moft  violent  perfe- 
cution. 

Vie  mud  therefore  be  fo  far  from  confidering  the 
world  as  in  a  flate  of  lefs  enmity  and  oppofition  to 
chriftianity,  than  it  was  in  the  firll  times  of  the  gof- 
pel,  that,we  nnift  guard  a^ainft  it  as  a  greater  and  more 
dangerous  enemy  now,  than  it  was  in  thole  times. 

It  is  a  greater  enemy,  becaufe  it  has  greater  power 
over  Chrillians  by  its  favours,  riches,  honours,  rewards, 
and  protcclions,  than  it  had  by  the  fire  and  fury  of  its 
p.^rfec^itions. 

It  is  a  more  dangerous  enemy,  by  having  lofl:  its 
appearance  of  enmity.  Its  outward  profeliion  of  Chrif- 
tianity  makes  it  no  longer  confidered  as  an  enemy  ;  and 
therefore  the  generality  of  people  are  eafily  perfuaded 
to  rcfign  thcmfelves  up  to  be  governed  and  dire(5led 
by  it. 

How  many  confciences  arc  kept  at  quiet,  upon  no 
other  foundation,  but  becaufe  they  fin  under  the  au- 
thority of  the  ChriiUan  world  ? 

Hosv  many  directions  of  the  gofpel  lie  by  unregard- 
ed ?  And  how  unconcernedly  do  particular  perfons  read 
them,  for  no  other  reafon,  but  becaufe  they  feem  un- 
regarded by  the  Chriftian  world? 

How  many  compliances  do  people  make  to  the  Chrif- 
tian world,  without  any  heatation,  or  remorfe  ;  which, 
if  they  had  been  required  of  them  only  by  heathens, 
would  have  been  refufed,  as  contrary  to  the  holinefs  of 
Chriilianity  1 

Who  could  be  content  with  feeing  how  contrary  his 
life  is  to  the  gofpel,  but  becaufe  he  fees  that  he  lives  as 
the  Ghriflian  world  doth  ? 

17.  There  is  nothing  therefore,  that  a  Chriftian  ought 
more  conflantly  to  guard  againft,  than  the  authority  of 
the  Chriftian  world. 

And  all  the  paffages  of  Scripture,  which  reprefent 
the  world  as  contrary  to  Chriftianity,  which  require 
our  fepaiation  from  it,  as  from  a  monfter  of  iniquity, 
are  to  be  taken  in  the  ftridl  fenfe,  in  relation  to  the  pre- 
fent  Y/orld. 


,  'jmt,&:'>mimA<»i;!imiu 


(  1*5  ) 

For  the  change  that  the  world  has  undergone,  h\< 
only  altered  its  methods,  but  not  lelVened  its  power  oi 
deflroying  religion. 

WhilQ  pride,  lenfiiality,  covctoufnefs,  and  ambition  had 
only  the  authority  of  the  heathen  world,  Chriflians  were 
thereby  made  more  intent  l5pon  the  contrary  virtues. 
But  when  pride,  feniuality,  covetoufnefs,  arnd  ambi- 
tion, hive  the  authority  of  the  Chriflian  world  ;  then 
private  Chriftians  are  in  the  utmoft  danger,  not  only  of 
being  fharaed  out  of  the  pr.a<9tice,  but  of  lofing  the  ve- 
ry notion  of  the  piety  of  the  gofpel. 

There  is  therefore  hardly  any  poflibility  of  faving 
you rfelf  from  the  prefcnt  world,  but  by  eonfidering  it 
as  the  fame  enemy  to  all  true  holinefs,  as  it  is  repre- 
sented in  the  fcriptures  ;  and  by  affuring  youifelf,  that 
it  is  as  dangerous  to  conform  to  its  tempers  and  palTions, 
now  it  is  Chriftian,  as  when  it  was  heathen. 

Need  a  man  do  more  to  make  his  foul  unfit  for  the 
mercy  of  God,  than  by  being  greedy  and  ambitious  o£ 
honour  ?  yet  how  can  you  renounce  this  temper  with- 
out renouncing  the  fpirit  and  temper  of  the  world,  in 
■which  you  now  live  ? 

How  can  a  man  be  made  more  incapable  of  the  SpP- 
rit  of  Chrift,  than  by  a  wrong  value  for  money  ;  and 
yet  how  can  he  be  more  wrong  in  his  value  of  it,  than 
by  following  the  authority  of  the  Chriflian  world  ? 

*  Nay,  in  every  order  and  ftation  of  life,  whether  of 
learning  or  bufinefs,  either  in  ckurchor  Hate,  you  can- 
not a6l  up  to  the  fpirit  of  religion,  without  renouncing* 
the  moft  general  temper  and  behaviour  of  tliofe,  who  are 
of  the  fime  order  andbufinefs  as  yourfelf. 

*  And  though  human  prudence  feems  to  talk  mighty 
-wifely  about  the  necelTity  of  avoiding  particularities, 
yet  he-that  dares  not  be  fo  weak  as  to  be  particular,  will 
be  obliged  to  avoid  the  moft  fubftantial  duties  of  Ghrii- 
tian  piety. 

Thefe    reflexions  will    I   hope,  help   you    to   break 

through  thofe    difficulties,   and  refifl  thole  temptations, 

which  the  authority  and  fafl-iion  of  the  world  have  raifed 

againft  the  practice  of  Chriflian  humility, 

\  N 

\ 


(     146     ) 

C  H  A  P.     XIV. 

Shaving  hew-  the  education  which  men  generally  receive^ 
makes  the  chctrines  of  humility  difficult  to  be  practised. 
The  spirit  of  a  belier  education  represented  in  the  cha- 
racter of  Paternus* 


A 


NOTHER  dlfficnlty  in  the  praclice  c£  humlH- 


ly  educated,  and  tlierv committed  to  take  our  courfe  in  a 
corrupt  world  :  fo  that  it  is  no  wonder,  if  examples  of 
great  piety  are  fo  feldora  feen. 

Great  part  of  the  world  are  undone,  by  being  born 
Slid  bred  in  families  that  have  no  religion. 

But  this  is  not  the  thing  I  now  mean  ;  the  educatioii 
that  I  here  intend,  is  fuch  as  children  generally  receiv* 
from  virtuous  parents,  and  learned  tutors  and  governors. 

*  Had  we  continued  perfect,  as  God  created  the  fiill 
man,  perhaps  the  perfedion  of  our  nature  had  been  a  fuf- 
ficient  ftrlf-inflrudlion  for  every  one.  But  as  ficknefs  and 
difeafes  have  created  ths  necellity  of  medicines  and  phyfi- 
cians.  fo  the  diforder  of  our  rational  nature  has  introdu- 
ced the  necelHty  of  education  and  tutors. 

*  And  as  the  only  end  of  the  phyfician  is,  to  reftora 
nature  to  its  own  flate  ;  fo  the  only  end  of  education  is, 
to  reftore  our  rational  nature  to  its  proper  ftate.  Edu- 
cation therefore  is  to  be  conlidered  as  reafon  borrowed  at 
fecor.d  hand,  which  is,  as  far  as  it  can,  to  fupply  the  lofs 
of  original  perfection.  And  as  phyfic  may  juitly  be  call- 
ed the  art  of  reftoring  health,  ib  education  fhould  be 
confidered  in  no  other  light,  than  as  the  art  of  recover- 
ing to  man  the  ufe  of  his  reafon. 

2.  Now  as  the  inflrudlion  of  every  art  or  fcience  is 
founded  upon  the  wifdom,  experience,  and  maxims  of  the 
feveral  great  men,  that  have  laboured  in  it;  fo  that  right 
ufe  af  our  reafon,  which  young  people  fhould  be  called 
to  by  their  education,  is  nothing  but  the  beft  experience, 
au-d  finell  reafonings  of  men,  that  have  devoted  them- 
fclves  to  the  improvement  of  human  nature. 


(     H7     ) 

All  therefore  that  great  faints,  and  f^yiiT!^  men,  \vheii 
the  fullcft  of  li.^:ht  and  convidlion,  anel  after  the  hir:;;hfft 
inipiovement  of  tlieir  reafon,  liave  faid  of  the  necrflitv 
of  piety,  of  the  excellf^ncy  of  virtue,  of  tlie  emptinefs  or 
riches,  of  the  vanity  of  the  world  ;  all  thefcntences,  judg- 
mc'nts,  rearoaiiig3  and  maxims  of  the  wifedof  pliilofophers, 
^vhen  in  their  higheft  fiate  of  wifdom,  (hould  conditute 
the  common  lefTons  of  inPiruilion  for  youthful  minds. 

This  is  the  only  way  to  make  the  young  and  Ignorant 
part  of  the  world  the  better  for  the  wifdom  and  know- 
ledge of  the  wife  and  ancient. 

3.  *  "I'he  youths  that  attended  upon  Pythagoras,  Socra- 
tes, Plato,  and  Epicletus,  vv^ere  thus  educated.  Their 
every  day  icfTons  and  indruftions  were  fo  many  lc6tures 
upon  the  nature  of  man,  his  true  end,  and  the  right  ufe 
of  hio  faculties  ;  upon  the  immortality  of  the  fouL  its 
relation  to  God,  the  beauty  of  virtue,  and  its  agreea- 
blenefs  to  the  divine  nature  ;  upon  the  neceffity  of  tem- 
perance, fortitude,  and  generolity,  and  the  fhame  and 
folly  of  indulging  our  pafTions. 

*  Now  as  chriflianity  has,  as  it  wer?,  new  created 
the  moral  and  religious  world,  and  let  every  thing  that  is 
reaibnable,  v/ife,  holy,  and  dcfirable,  in  its  true  point; 
of  light  ;  fo  one  would  expedl,  that  the  education  of 
you:h  fhould  be  as  much  bettered"  and  amended  b)"" 
chriPiianity,  as  the  doctrines  of  religion  arc  amended 
by  it. 

*  As  it  has  introduced  a  new  ftate  of  things,  and  fa 
ful!^  informed  us  of  the  nature  of  man,  and  the  end 
of  his  creation  ;  as  it  has  fixed  all  our  goods  and  evils, 
taught  us  the  means  of  pBrifyingour  fouls,  pleafing  God, 
nnd  becoming  eternally  happy  ;  one  might  naturally 
fuppoft,  that  every  Ghriilian  country  abounded  with 
fchools,  not  only  for  teaching  a  few  :jueRions  and  ?.n- 
/wers  of  a  Catechifm,  but    for    the   forming,   tiaining, 

and  pradlifjng  youths  in  fuch  a  courfc  of  life,  as  the 
higheft  precepts,  the  Ihifted  rules,  and  ths  fublimell  d(^- 
trin^s  of  chriOianity  require. 

4.  *  An  education  under  Pythagoras,  or  Socrates,  had 
no  other  end,  but  to  teach  youth  to  think,  judge,  and 
ad,  as  Pythagoras  and  Socrates  did. 


(     148     ) 

And  Is  it  liot  as  rcafonable  to  fuppofe,  that  a  Clirif- 
tian  ectucation  fliould  have  no  other  end,  but  to  teach 
youth  how  ♦:o  think,  and  judge,  and  a£l  according  to 
the  fli  i£le{l  laws  of  chriftianity  ? 

At  leaft  one  would  fuppofe,  that  in  all  Chriftiaa 
fchof  h,  the  teaching  youth  to  begin  their  lives  in  the 
fpirii  of  chriftianity,  i-n  fuch  fcverity  of  behaviour,  fuch 
abftinence,  fobriety,  humility,  and  devotion,  as  chriRl- 
anity  requires,  ihould  not  only  be  more,  bat  an  hundred 
times  more  regarded,  than  any  or  all  tilings  elfe. 

For  our  educators  fhould  imitate  our  guardian  angels, 
fuggeft'nothing  to  our  minds  but  what  is  wife  and  holy  ; 
help  U6  to  difcover  and  fubdue  every  vain  paflion  of  our 
hearts,  and  every  falfe  judgment  of  our  minds. 

And  it  is  as  reafonable  to  expert, and  require  all  this 
benefit  of  a  ChriOian  education,  as  to  require  that  phy- 
fic  (hould  {Irengthen  all  that  is  right  in  our  nature,  and 
remove  that  which  is  fickly  and  difeafed. 

5.  But  alas  !  our  modern  education  is  not  of  this  kind.- 

*  The  firfl  temper  that  we  try  to  awaken  in  children, 
13  pride  ;  as  dangerous  a  paflion  as  that  of  luft.  We  ilir 
them  up  to  vain  thoughts  of  themfelves,  and  do  every 
thing  we  can,  to  puff  up  their  minds  with  a  fenfc  of 
their  own  abilities. 

Whatever  way  of  life  we  intend  them  for,  we  apply 
to  the  fire  and  vanity  of  their  minds,  and  exhort  them  to 
every  thing  from  corrupt  motives  :  We  ftir  them  up  to 
adlion  from  principles  of  ftrife  and  ambition,  from  glory, 
envy,  and  a  deHre  of  diftindtion,  that  they  may  excel 
others,  and  fliine  in  the  eyes  of  the  world. 

And  when  we  have  taught  them  to  fcorn  to  be  out- 
gone by  any,  to  bear  no  rival,  to  third  after  every  in- 
ftance  of  applaufe,  to  be  content  with  nothing  but  the 
higheil  diliinftions  ;  then  we  begin  to  take  comfort  in 
them,  and  promife  the  world  fome  mighty  things  from 
youths  of  fuch  a  glorious  fpirit. 

If  children  are  intended  for  holy  orders,  we  fet  before 
them  fome  eminent  orator,  Vv^hofe  fine  preaching  has 
made  him  the  admiration  of  the  age,  and  carried  hira 
through  all  the  dignities  and  prefermeBts  of  iihe  church. 


(    uo    ) 

We  enconrnn;?  them  to  have  tliefc  lionour;;  in  'tl.rrir 
eye,  and  to  expr£\:  the  reward  of  tiu-ir  lUidics  titiin 
tlicm. 

IF  tlie  yoBtli  Is  inlpndtd  for  n  trade,  ve  bid  liim  Icck 
at  the  rich  men  of  t!ie  Unr."  triide,  and  cvMifider  how 
ij-:any  now  are  carried  in  their  Pfately  coaches,  who  b?- 
g-Linin  the  fame  low  degree  as  he  now  does.  We  a^vak- 
en  his  ambition,  and  endeavour  to  give  his  mind  a 
right  turn,  by  often  telling  him  how  very  rich  Tuch  and 
Inch  a  tradelman  died. 

If  he  is  to  be  a  lawyer,  then  v/e  fet  great  counfellors, 
lords,  judges  and  chancellors,  before  his  eyes.  V/e  tell 
him  what  gie^t  fees,  and  great  applaufe  attend  fins 
pleading.  We  exhort  him  to  take  lire  at  thele  things, 
to  raife  a  fpirit  of  emulation  in  himfclf,  and  to  be  con- 
tent with  nothing  lefs  than  the  higb.ell  honours  of  the 
long  robe. 

6.  That  this  is  the  nature  of  our  bel\  education,  is  too 
plain  to  need  any  proof;  and  I  believe  there  are  few 
parents,  but  would  be  glad  to  fee  'chti'z  inftrudions  dai- 
ly given  to  their  children. 

And  after  all  this,  we  cornph/.n  of  the  effcds  of 
pride  ;  we  wonder  to  fee  grown  men  iKTtuattd  and  go- 
verned by  ambition,  envy,  fcorn,  and  2  deli  re  of  glory  ; 
not  confidering  that  they  wc;-e  ?M  the  time  of  their 
youtU  called  upon  to  form  all  their  afciou  and  iuduflry 
upon  the  lame  principles. 

You  teach  a  child  to  fcorn  to  be  outdone,  to  third 
for  diftincStion  and  applaufe  ;  and  is  it  any  wonder  that 
he  continues  to  a£l  all  his  life  in  the  fame  manner  r 

*  Now  if  a  youth  is  ever  to  be  fo  i'Av  a  Chrifilan, 
as  to  govern  his  heart  by  the  dodrines  of  humility,  I 
would  fain  know  at  v;hat  time  he  is  to  begin  it  ;  or  if 
he  is  ever  to  begin  it  at  all,  why  wc  train  him  up  in' 
tempers  quite  contrary  to  it  ? 

IIow  dry  and  poor  mufl:  tiie  doctrines  of  humility 
found  to  a  youth,  that  had  been  fpurred  Ui^  to  ail  lils 
indufby  by  ambition,  envy,  emulation,  and  a  clclire  of 
glory  and  di[\in£lion  ?  And  if  he  is  not  to  acl  by  thefe 
principles  when  he  is  a  man,  why  do  W€  call  him  to  act 
by  them  in  his  youth  ? 

N  2 


(      liO     ) 

Envy  13  acknov.'Iec'geJ  by  all  people  to  i)C  the  rtfofl 
Mn,:^erier(.-us.  bwi't',  ar.d  wick<:d  paiiion,  tliat  can  enlcr  in- 
to tne  heart  of  iniu. 

And  is  this  tiie  ter.-'pev  to  h^  in!:i!(fcvl,  'jcnrinud  a:jd 
"Cnablin-icJ  In  the  minds  of  young  ot'ople  ? 

7.  1  know  it  is  fj/id,  that  it  is  iu)t  envy  l:L;t  enu)laticr, 
th^t  is  intended  to  be  awiikened  in  ilic  n.inds  cf  ycun^- 
men. 

*  But  this  is  vainly  faid.  For  \vhen  children  are 
tHLi;.;ht  to  l:eai-  no  rival,  and  to  fcorn  to  be  outaone  by 
any  of  their  a;;i;e,  they  arc  plainly  and  directly  taurvht 
tr  be  envious.  For  it  is  impcffible  for  aiiV  one  to  hu\e 
Xh\o  fcorn  of  being  outdone,  this  contention  with  rivals, 
vy'iihout  burning-  with  envy  againO  all  thofc  that  fctni 
to  excel  him,  or  get  any  difrinction  from  hiin.  So  that 
"what  children  are  taught  is  rank  envy,  and  only  cover- 
ed with  a  name  of  Id's  odious  found, 

*  Secondly,  If  envy  is  thus  confciTedly  bad,  and  it  he 
only  enuilation  that  is  endeavoured  to  be  awakened  in 
children,  furely  there  ought  to  be  great  care  taken  that 
chiidri-n  n^ay  know  the  one  from  the  other  ;  that  thry 
may  abomiu-ite  the  one  as  a  great  crime,  Mhdil  thty 
give  tin  ether  admiflion  into  their  minds. 

Bi-L  if  this  v/ere  to  be  attempted,  th-c  fmentfs  of  the 
diilinclion  betwixt  envy  and  emulatioj),  would  Diew 
that  it  was  ralier  to  divide  them  in  words,  than  to  i'e- 
pirate  th.cv,  in  action. 

Fcr  emulation,  when  it  is  defined  in  its  btfl;  planner, 
is  nothing  tile  but  a  refinement  upon  envy,  or  rather 
the  molt  plauiible  part  of  that  black  and  veiiomous 
})alTicn. 

And  though  it  is  eafy  to  feparate  them  in  the  notion, 
yet  the  molt  acute  philofopher,  that  undei  Hands  th^e  art 
of  difiingu.riiing  ever  fo  well,  if  he  gives  himielf  np  to 
.emulation,  will  certairdy  find  hlmftlf  det  p  in  envy. 

8.  It  is  fuid  rdfp,  tl  at  ^^n.biticn,  and  a  dcfirc  of  glo- 
ry, are  nrccfTary  to  excite  young  people  to  induftry  ; 
and  that  if  we  weje  to  prels  upon  them  the  dcctiincs 
of  humility,  we  fliould  deje(^l  their  minds,  and  Cnk 
them  into  dylnefs  and  idlenefs. 


(  1J>  ) 

B'.i':  ritvi*:  pv\->p!e  who  f.iy  l!hs,  do  not  cotinvl.-r,  i:!  ^.t 
Tiii]  realbn,  if  it  has  uvy  llicn,'./J),  is  full  as  {};-0!u^-  .••.- 
gaiiid  prefHiit^-  the  flotTtiine-s  of  humility  upon  gruwii 
I'.ien,  Ic-Q  we  Iht.nlJ  cl.-jvft  their  min.U,  and  fuik  tlit;;n 
i;ito  d-jliufs  and  idlcnt-fs. 

lliii  reafon  theitfore  that  is  given,  v/hv  cinlditii 
Oiould  not  be  trained  up  in  the  principles  of  trus  1. uti- 
lity, is  as  good  a  reafon  why  the  fame  huindity  /h.).;Id 
never  be  required  of  grown  men. 

Attain,  let  thofe  people,  who  think  that  c'  ildrca 
•would  be  fpoiled,  if  they  were  not  thi.s  educated,  cm- 
fidcr  this. 

*  Gould  they  think,  that  if  any  children  had  been 
educated  by  our  blefifed  Lord,  or  his  holy  apoflL-s.  th.jir 
iDinds  would  have  been  lunk  intodulnefs  andidl'-^ncl's  r 

*  Or  could  they  think,  that  fuch  children  woidd 
r.ot  have  been  trained  uj)  in  th.e  profounik-ri;  priiici^K-s 
of  hun"ulity  ?  Can  they  fay  that  our  bldTed  Lord  v.  lio 
was  the  humblell  man  that  ever  was  on  earth,  was  hin- 
dered by  his  humility  from  benig  the  g-reatefl  example 
of  worthy  and  glorious  actions,  that  ever  were  done  by 
man  ? 

Can  they  fay  that  his  apoftles,  who  lived  in  the  hum- 
ble fpirit  of  their  nnfier,  did  therefore  ceafe  to  be  'a- 
boricais  and  adiive  inftrumeuts  of  doing  good  to  all  the 
world  ? 

A  few  fuch  reflexions  as  thefe,  are  fufficient  to  ex- 
pofe  all  the  poor  pretences  for  an  education  in  pride 
and  ambition. 

9.  *  Paternus  lived  about  two  hundred  years  ago  ;  he 
h?id  but  one  fon.  v/hom  he  educated  himfrif  in  his  ov^'q 
houfe.  As  they  were  fitting  together  in  the  garden, 
•when  the  child  was  ten  years  old,  Paternus  thus  began 
to  him  : 

The  little  time  that  you  have  been  in  the  world,  ray 
child,  you  have  fpent  wholly  with  me  ;  and  my  love 
and  tendcrnefs  to  you,  has  made  you  look  upon  me  as 
your  only  friend  and  benefaftor,  and  the  caufe  of  all 
tliJ  comfort  and  pleafure  you  enj  ••y  ;  your  heart, 
I  know,  would  be  ready  to  break  with  grief,  if  yoa 
thought  this  wa3  the  lull  day  that  I  QiuuU  live  with  you. 


(      152     ) 

But,  my  chila,  thor.o-h  you  now  think  youiTelf  n.^igh- 
ty  happy,  bccaufe  you  have  hold  cf  niy  hand,  you  arc 
iiovv^  in  the  hands,  and  under  the  tender  care  of  a  much 
greater  father  and  friend  than  I  am,  Avhofe  love  to  you 
is  far  greater  than  mine,  and  from  whom  you  receive 
inch  bleuiiigs  as  no  mortal  can  give. 

That  God  whom  you  have  feen  me  daily  worfhip  : 
Avhom  I  daily  call  upon  to  blefs  both  you  and  nie,  and 
all  mankind  ;  whofe  wondrous  a6ls  are  recorded  in 
thofe  fcriptures,  which  you  conrtantiy  read.  That  God 
-who  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  who  brought  a 
flood  upon  the  old  world  ;  who  faved  Noah  in  the  ark, 
who  was  the  God  of  Abraham,  Ifaac  and  Jacob,  whom 
Job  blciTed  and  praifed  in  the  greattft  afEli(flions  ;  who 
delivered  the  Ifraelites  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Egyptians, 
who  was  the  protestor  of  righteous  Jofeph,  Mofes,  Jo- 
fiiua,  ^tud  holy  Daniel  ;  who  fent  fo  many  prophets  into 
the  world  ;  who  fent  his  Son  Jefus  Chrift  to  redeem 
mankind.  This  God,  who  has  done  all  thefe  great 
tilings  ;  who  has  created  lb  many  millions  of  men,  who 
lived  and  died  before  you  was  born  ;  with  whom  the 
foirics  of  good  men  that  are  departed  this  life,  now 
live  ;  whom  infinite  numbers  of  angels  now  worQ'jip  in 
heaven.  This  great  God,  who  is  the  creator  of  worlds, 
of  angels,  and  men,  is  your  loving  father  and  friend, 
your  good  creator  and  nouiifher,  from  whom,  and  not 
from  me,  you  received  your  being  ten  years  ago,  at 
the  time  that  I  planted  that  little  tender  elm  which  you 
there  fee. 

10.  I  myfelf  am  not  half  the  age  of  this  fhady  oak, 
under  whicii  we  fit  ;  many  of  our  fathers  have  fat  un- 
der its  boughs  ;  we  have  all  of  us  called  it  ours  in  our 
turn,  though  it  fiands,  and  drops  its  mailers,  as  it  drops 
its  leaves. 

You  fee,  m.y  ion,  this  wide  and  large  firmament  over 
err  headsj  wiiere  the  fun  and  moon,  and  all  the  ftars 
?.ppear  in  their  turns.  If  you  were  to  be  carried  up  to 
any  of  thefe  bodies  at  this  vaft  dillance  from  us,  you 
would  Rill  difcover  others,  as  much  above  you,  as  the 
ftars  that  you  fee  hsre  are  above  the  earth.  Were  you 
to  go  up  or  dovai,  eail  or  v/cll,    north  or  fouth,  you 


(     153     ) 

would  find  the  fame  height  without  any  top,  and  tlie 
lame  depth  without  any  bottom. 

And  yt.'t,  my  child,  fo  gi(  nt  is  God,  that  all  thcfe 
bodies  added  together,  are  but  as  a  giii.i  of  fand  in  his 
fip;ht.  And  ytt  you  are  as  much  the  care  of  this  great 
God,  and  Father  of  all  v/«tlds,  and  all  fpirits,  as  if  he 
had  no  fon  but  you,  or  there  were  no  creature  for  him 
to  love  and  pr<)tc(5l  but  you  alone.  Jle  numbers  the 
hairs  of  your  head,  watches  over  you  ilecping  and  v/a- 
king,  and  has  preferved  you  from  a  thoufand  dangers, 
which  neither  you  nor  I  know  any  thing  of.  p 

1  I.  How.  poor  my  power  is,  and  how  little  I  am 
able  to  do  for  you,  you  have  often  feen.  Your  late 
ficknefs  has  (hewn  you  how  little  I  could  do  for  you  in 
that  ftate  ;  and  the  frequent  pains  of  your  head  are 
plain  proofs,  that  I  have  no  power  to  remove  them, 

I  can  bring  you  food  and  medicines,  but  have  no  pow- 
er to  turn  them  into  your  relief  and  nouriiliiHent  ;  it  ii 
God  alone  that  can  do  this  for  you. 

Therefore,  my  child,  fear,  and  worfliip,  and  love 
God.  Your  eyes  indeed  cannot  yet  fee  him,  but  eve- 
ry thing  you  fee,  are  fo  many  marks  of  his  power  and 
prefence,  and  he  is  nearer  to  you  than  any  thing  that 
you  can  fee. 

Take  him  for  your  Lord  and  Father,  and  friend  ; 
look  up  unto  him  as  the  fountain  and  caufe  of  all  the 
good  that  you  have  received  through  my  hands  ;  and 
reverence  me  only  as  the  bearer  and  minifter  of  God's 
good  things  unto  you  ;  and  he  that  bleffed  my  father 
before  I  was  born,   will  blefs  you  when  I  am  dead. 

Your  youth  and  little  mind  is  only  yet  acquainted 
with  my  family,  and  therefore  you  think  there  is  no 
happinei's  out  of  it. 

But,  my  childj  you  belong  to  a  greater  family  than 
mine  ;  you  are  a  younger  member  of  the  family  of  iliis 
Almighty  Father  of  all  nations,  who  has  created  infi- 
nite orders  of  angels,  and  numberlefs  generations  of 
men,  to  be  fellow-members  of  cne  and  the  fame  fociety 
in  heaven. 

12.  You  do  well  to  reverence  my  authority,  be- 
caufe  God  has  given  me  power  over  you,  to  bring  you 


(      154     ) 

v.p  in  his  fear,  and  to  do  for  yon,  as  the  holy  fathers 
recorded  in  fcripture  did  for  their  children,  who  arc 
now  in  reft  and  peace  with  God,  . 

I  fliall  ill  a  (hart  time  die,  and  leave  you  to  God  ^\vi 
yourfelf  ;  and  if  God  forgiveth  my  fins,  I  fhal!  go  to 
his  Son  Jefus  Chrilt,  and  live  amongft  patriarchs  ail:d 
prophets,  faints  and  martyrs,  where  I  ihall  pray  for 
you,  and  hope  for  your  fi>fe  arrival  at  the  fame  phice. 

Therefore,  my,  child,  meditate  on  thefe  great  things, 
and  let  your  thoughts  often  leave  thefe  gardens,  thefe 
fields  and  farms,  to  contcn-plate  God  and  heaven,  to 
coiifider  angels,  and  tht;  fpirlts  of  good  it:en  living  in 
liglit  and  glory. 

As  yoa  have  been  ufed  to' look  to  me  in  all  your  ac- 
tions, and  have  been  afraid  todoar.v  thincj,  unlefs  you 
fiifl  kn?w  my  will  ;  fo  let  it  now  be  your  rule  to  look 
up  to  God  in  all  your  aC"l::ons,  to  do  every  thing  in  his 
fear,  and  to  abftain  from  every  thipg  that  is  not  acccr- 
din;'^'  to  his  will. 

Bear  him  aivvays  in  your  nVuid  ;  teach  your  thoughts 
to  rivcreiice  him  in  cv^-y  pl^ce  ;  for  thsr^  is  no  place 
where  })c  is  net. 

13.  God  kecpr'th  a  book  of  life,  wherein  all  the  ac- 
t;::  i  of  l11  Die;)  arc  wilcten  ;  ypur  name  is  there,  my 
child  ;  ar.d  whtti  you  die,  this  book  will  be  laid  open 
before  n^en  and  zi^gth  f  and  according  as  your  anions 
•are  ther«  found,  you  will  cither  be  received  to  the  hap- 
pi.icfi  of  tbof^  hcly  men  who  have  died  bi*,fore  you,  or 
be  turned  away  among  wicked  fpirits,  that  are  never  to 
fee  G-od  any  more. 

Never  forget  this  book,  my  fan  ;  for  it  is  written, 
it  muR  hi  opened,  you  mull  fee  it,  and  you  mufl:  be 
triid  by  it.  SLrive  therefore  to"  fill  it  with  your  good 
d/eds.  that  the  hind-writing  of  God  n»ay  not  appear 
Hg...a  you. 

God,  my  child,  is  all  love,  and  wifdom,  and  good- 
neis  ;  and  every  thing  that  lie  has  made,  and  every  ac- 
tion that  he  does,  is  the  cffedl  of  them  all.  Thei:e- 
foie  you  cann-jt  pleafe  God,  but  fo  far  as  you  {lri\e  to 
walk  ia  love,  wifiom,  and  gooduefs.     As  all  wifdom, 


(      iS5     ) 

love,  and  goodnefs  proceeds  from  God  ;  fo  uotliing  but 
lo\e,   uil'dom  and  goodncrs  can  leud  to  God. 

When  you  love  that  which  God  love::;,  you  v.Ct  with 
liim,  ycu  join  youifclf  to  him  ;  and  when  you  love 
what  lie  dillikes,  then  you  oppole  hlin,  and  iVparute 
yourielf  from  him.  This  is  the  true  and  tlie  right 
^vay  ;  think  what  God.  Iov£Sj  and  do  you  love  it  with 
all  your  heart. 

14.  Firf\  of  all,  my  cliild,  worOiip  and  adore  God, 
think  of  liim  magnificently,  fpeak  of  him  reverently, 
magnify  his  providence,  adore  his  power,  frequent  his 
fervice,  and  pray  unto  him  conflantly. 

Next  to  this,  love  your  nei,;^hbour,  which  is  all 
mankind^  with  fuch  tendcrncfs  and  aff.:{ftion  as  you 
love  yourfelf.  Think  how  God  loves  all  mankind, 
how  merciful  he  is  to  them,  how  -tender  he  is  of  them, 
how  carefully  he  preferves  them,  and  then  flrive  to  love 
the  world,  as  God  loves  it. 

God  would  have  all  nsen  to  be  happy,  therefore  do 
you  will  and  defirc  the  fame.  Ail  men  are  great, in- 
Ilances  of  divine  love,  therefore  let  all  men  be  inftances 
of  your  love. 

But  above  all,"  my  fon,  mark  this  :  never  do  any 
thing  through  ftrife,  or  envy,  or  emulation,  or  vain 
glory.  Never  do  any  thing  in  order  to  excel  other 
people,  but  in  order  to  pleafe  God,  and  becaufe  it  is 
his  will,  that  you  fljould  do  every  thing  in  the  beft  man- 
ner that  you  can. 

For  if  it  is  once  a  pleafure  to  you  to  excel  other  peo- 
ple, it  will  by  degrees  be  a  pleafure  to  you,  to  fee  other 
people  not  fo  good  as  yourfelf. 

Baniih  therefore  every  thought  of  pride  anddiftinflion, 
«nd  accuftom  yourfelf  to  rejoice  in  all  the  excellencies 
of  your  fellow  creatures,  and  be  as  glad  to  fee  any  of 
their  good  actions,  as  your  own. 

For  as  God  is  as  well  pleafed  with  their  well  doings, 
as  with  yours  ;  fo  you  ought  to  defire,  that  every  thing 
that  is  wife,  and  holy,  and  good,  may  be  performed 
in  as  high  a  manner  by  other  people,  as  by  yourfelf. 

15.  Let  this  therefore  be  your  only  motive  to  all 
good  adtions,  to  do  every  thing  in  as  perfect  a  manner 


(     156    ) 

g|  you  can  ;  for  this  only  reafon,  becaufe  it  is  pleafin^ 
to  God,  who  writes  all  your  adlions  in  a  bcok.  When 
I  am  dead,  my  fon,  you  will  be  ma^er  of  all  ray  eflate, 
which  will  be  a  great  deal  more  than  the  neceflities 
of  one  family  require.  Therefore,  as  you  are  to  be 
charitable  to  the  fouls  of  men,  and  wifh  them  the 
fame  happinefs  with  you  in  heaven  ;  fo  be  charitable  to 
their  bodies  ;  and  endeavour  to  make  them  as  happy  as 
you  upon  earth. 

As  God  has  created  all  things  for  the  common  good 
of  all  men  ;  fo  let  that  part  of  them  which  is  fallen  to 
your  fhare,  be  employed,  as  God  would  have  all  em- 
ployed, for  the  common  good  of  all. 

Do  good,  my  fon,  firft  of  all  to  thofe  thatmofl:  de- 
ferve  it,  but  remember  to  do  good  to  all.  The  great- 
eft  finners  receive  daily  inftances  of  God's  goodncfs  to- 
wards them  ;  he  nourifhes  and  preferves  them,  that 
they  may  repent,  and  return  to  him  ;  do  you  there- 
fore imitate  God,  and  think  no  one  too  bad  to  receive 
your  relief  and  kindnefs,  when  you  fee  that  he  wants  it. 

16.  I  am  teaching  you  Latin  and  Greek,  not  that 
you  fliould  defire  to  be  a  great  critic,  a  fine  poet^  or  an 
eloquent  orator.  I  would  not  have  your  heart  feel  any 
of  thefe  defires  ;  for  the  defire  of  thefe  accomplifli- 
ments  is  vanity,  and  the  mafters  of  them  are  generally 
vain  men. 

But  I  teach  you  thefe  languages,  that  at  proper  times 
you  may  look  into  the  hiftory  of  paft  ages,  and  learn 
the  methods  of  God's  providence  over  the  world  ;  that 
reading  the  writings  of  the  ancient  fages,  you  may  fee 
how  wifdom  and  virtue  have  been  the  praife  of  great 
men  of  all  ages. 

Let  truth  and  plainnefs  be  the  only  ornament  of 
your  lauguage,  and  ftudy  nothing  but  how  to  think  of 
all  things  as  they  deferve,  to  chufe  every  thing  that  is 
beft,  to  live  according  to  reafon,  and  to  a£t  in  every 
part  of  your  life  in  conformity  to  the  will  of  God. 

Study  how  to  fill  your  heart  full  of  the  love  of  God, 
and  the  love  of  your  neighbour,  and  then  be  content  to 
be  no  deeper  a  fcholar,  no  finer  a  gentleman,  than  thefe 
tempers  will  make  you.     As   true  religion  is  nothing 


(  li?  ) 

tli'e  but  (hnple  nature  governed  by  rlglit  re  a  Con  ;  fo  It 
joves  and  retjuires  great  plainnefs  and  i\m\)\  city  of  life. 
Therefore  avoid  all  Tuperflucus  fliews,  finery  and  equi- 
page, and  let  your  houfe  be  plainly  furniilied  with  mo- 
derate convcniencies.  Do  not  confidcr  wliat  your  ef- 
tate  tan  afford,  but  Nvhat  right  reafon  requires. 

17.  Let  your  drefs  be  fober,  clean,  and  modcfl  ;  not 
to  fet  out  the  beauty  of  your  perfon,  but  to  declare  the 
iobriety  of  your  mind,  that  your  outward  garb  may  re- 
iemble  the  plainnefs  of  your  heart.  For  it  is  highly 
reafonable,  that  you  (liould  be  one  man,  all  of  a  piece, 
and  appear  outwardly  fuch  as  you  are  inwardly. 

As  to  your  meat  and  drink,  in  them  obferve  the  high- 
en:  rales  of  Chriftian  temperance  and  fobricty  :  confidcr 
your  body  only  as  the  iervant  of  your  foul  :  and  only  lb 
nourifli  it,  that  it  may  perform  an  humble  and  obedi- 
ent fcrvice  to  it. 

But  J  my  fon,  obferve  this  as  a  principle  thing,  which 
I  (hall  remember  you  of  as  long  as  I  live. 

Hate  and  defpife  all  human  glory,  for  it  is  nothing  elfe 
but  human  folly.  It  is  the  greateft  fnare,  and  the  great- 
cfl  betrayer  that  you  can  pofiibly  admit  into  your  heaiu 

Let  every  day  therefore  be  a  day  of  humility  ;  con- 
dcfcend  to  all  the  infirmities  of  your  fellow-creatures, 
cover  tiieir  frailties,  love  their  excellencies,  encourage 
their  virtues,  relieve  their  wants,  rejoice  in  their  prof- 
perities,  compaffionate  their  diftrcfles,  receive  their 
iViendibip,  overlook  their  unkindnefs,  forgive  their  ma- 
lice, be  a  fervant  of  fervants,  and  condei'cend  to  do  the 
loweft  ofHces  to  the  lowefl:  of  mankind, 

18.  *  Afpire  after  nothing  but  your  own  purity  and 
perf^dlion,  and  have  no  auibition  but  to  do  every  thni^ 
in  fo  religious  a  manner,  that  you  may  be  gUd  God  is 
every  where  prefent,  and  fees  all  your  adions..  The 
greateft  trial  of  humility,  is  an  humble  behaviour  to- 
wards your  equals  in  age,  eftate,  and  condition.  There- 
fore be  car.l'ul  of  all  the  motions  of  your  heart  towaids 
thele  people.  Let  all  your  behaviour  towa»ds  them  be 
governed  by  unfeigned  love.  Have  no  defire  to  put 
any  of  your  equals  below  you,  nor  any  anger  at  rhofe 
that    would   put  themfclves   above   you.     If  they  are 

O 


(     158     ) 

proiul,  they  are  ill  of  a  very  bad  diftemper,  let  them 
therefore  have  your  tender  pity,  and  perhaps  your 
meeknefs  may  prove  an  occarion  of  their  cure  ;  but  if 
your  humility  fliould  do  them  no  good,  it  will  however 
be  the  greatell  good  to  yourfelf. 

Remember  that  there  is  but  one  man  in  the  world, 
with  whom  vou  are  to  have  perpetual  contention,  and 
be  always  {hiving  to  excel  him,  and  that  is  yourfelf. 

The  time  of.pracfliling  thefe  precepts,  iy,y  child,  will 
foon  be  over  with  you  ;  the  world  will  foon  flip  through 
your  hands,  or  rather  you  will  foon  flip  through  it  ;  it 
leems  but  the  other  day  fince  I  received  thefe  iuAruc- 
tions  from  my  dear  father,  that  I  am  how  leaving  with 
you.  And  the  God  that  gave  me  ears  to  hear,  and  a 
heart  to  receive  what  my  father  faid  unto  me,  will,  I 
hope,  give  you  grace  to  love  and  follow  the  fame  in- 
flruiflions. 


CHAP.     XV. 


Shelving  hoTJ  the  method  of  educating  daughters^  makes 
it  difficult  for  them  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  Christi- 
an humility.  Hotv  miserably  they  are  injured  and  abu- 
sed by  such  an  education.  The  spirit  of  a  better  educa- 
tion, represented  in  the  character  of  Eusebia, 

1,  ^~B~^HAT  turn  of  mind  which  is  taught  and  encou- 
I  raged  in  the  education  of  daughters,  makes  it 
exceeding  difficult  for  them  to  enter  into  fuch  a  fenfe 
and  pradlice  of  humility,  as  the  fpirit  of  chriftianity  re- 
quireth. 

*  The  right  education  of  this  fex  is  of  the  utmoft  im- 
portance. For  though  women  do  not  carry  on  the  trade 
and  bufinefs  of  the  world  ;  yet  as  they  are  mothers  and 
miftreffes  of  families,  that  have  for  fome  time  the  care 
of  the  education  of  their  children,  they  are  entrufled 
-with  that  which  is  of  thegreatelt  confequence  to  human 
life.     For  this  reafon,  good  or  bad  women  are  likely  to 


(     159     ) 

do  a.r  much  good  or  harm  in  the  world,   as  good   or  bud 
men  in    the  i:,re;itell  bullncfi. 

*  For  as  tlve  health  and  llrength,  or  wcukncfs  of  our 
l)odieSv  is  ruich  owiny;  to  their  njethotls  of  treating  us 
•when  we  were  young  ;  fo  the  foundnefs  or  fell/  of  our 
minds  is  not  Icfsov/ing  to  thofe  firll  tempers  and"Nvays  of 
thinking,  which  we  eagerly  received  from  the  love,  ten- 
dernefs,  authority  and  conllant  converfation  of  our  njc- 
thers. 

*  As  we  rail  our  firft  language  our  mother-tongue,  fo 
Ave  mny  as  juftly  call  our  firR  tempers  cur  niothtr-tem- 
jicrs  ;  and  perhaps  it  may  bv-^  found  more  eafy  to  for;£ct 
the  language,  than  to  pare  entirely  with  thofe  tempers 
Yihich  we  learned  in  the  nurfery. 

2.  It  is  therefore  much  to  be  lamented,  that  this  f-'X 
who  have  the  firft  f  )rniing  both  of  our  bodies  and  minds, 
are  not  only  educated  iu  pride,  but  in  the  filLcfl  and 
inoll  contemptible  part  cf  it. 

*  Xli'^y  are  not  indeed  fuffjrcd  to  difpute  with  us 
the  proud  prizes  of  arts  and  fciences  ;  but  we  turn  theui 
over  to  the  fliidy  of  beauty  and  drefs,  and  the  -whole 
world  confpires  to  make  them  think  cf  nothing  tile. 
Fathers  and  mothers,  friends  and  relations,  feem  to  have 
no  other  wifh  towards  the  licde  girl,  but  that  flie  may 
have  a  fair  f^cin,  a  fine  Onpe,  dreTs  \vt.ll,  and  dance  Lo 
adiriiration. 

Now  if  a  fondncfs  for  ourperfcns,  a  delire  of  beauty, 
a  love  of  drefs,  be  a  part  of  pride  (as  furtly  it  is  a  muib 
contemptible  part  of  it)  the  firll  fttp  towards  a  woman's 
humility,  f^ej-ns  to  require  a  repentance  of  her  education. 

For  it  mjfl:  be  owned,  that,  generally  fjicaking, 
good  parents  are  never  more  fond  of  tlieir  daughters, 
than  when  they  fee  th;nii  too  fond  of  themfeiv  s.  and 
dreffid  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  is  a  great  reproach  to  the 
gravity  and  fobriety  of  the  Chriflian  life. 

3.  The  church  has  formerly  had  eminent  faints  in  that 
fex  ;  and  it  may  reafonably  be  thought,  tha:it  is  pure- 
ly ov/ing  to  their  poor  and  vain  education,^  that  t]:i-.  ho- 
nour of  their  fcx  is  for  the  moft  part  confuiiij  to  fonitci'^ 


:ei, 


(     160     > 

*  The  coniiptioH  of  the  wojld  indulges  them  In  great 
vanity,  rind  r-iankind  iVem  to  confider  them  in  no  other 
view,  than  as  lo  many  painted  idols,  that  are  to  allure  and 
gratify  their  paffions  ;  fo  that  if  many  women  are  vain» 
light,  ge^vgavv  creatures,  they  have  this  to  excufe  t'hem- 
fflves,  th-'t  they  are  i.ot  only  fuch  as  th«'iir  education 
has  made  tlieui,  but  fuch  as  the  generality  of  the  world 
allows  them  to  be. 

*  But  then  they  Iriould  conHder,  that  the  friends  to 
their  vanity  are  no  friends  of  theirs  ;  that  they  are  to 
live  for  themfelves  ;  that  they  have  as  great  a  (hare  in 
the  rational  nature  as  men  have  ;  that  they  have  as  much 
reafon  to  jirctend,  and  as  much  neceffity  to  afpire  after 
the  highefi  accomplifhments  of  Chriftian  virtue,  as  the 
graveft  and  wil'tll:  among  ChriOian  philofophers. 

*  They  fhould  confider,  that  they  are  abufed  and  in- 
jured, and  betrayed  from  tbeironly  perfeAion,  whenever 
they  are  taught,  that  any  thing  is  an  ornament  in  them, 
that  i;;  not  an  ornament  in  the  wifefl  among  mankind. 

4.  *  It  is  generally  faid,  that  women  are  naturally  of 
little  and  vain  minds  ;  but  this  I  look  upon  to  be  as  falf';, 
as  to  fay,  that  butchers  are  naturally  cruel  ;  for  as  their 
cruelty  is  not  owing  to  their  nature,  but  to  their  way  of 
life  ;  fo  Avhatever  littlenefs  and  vanity  is  in  the  minds  of 
women,  it  is  like  the  cruelty  of  butchers,  a  temper  that 
is  wrought  into  them  by  that  life  \Nhichthey  are  taught 
and  accuftomed  to  lead. 

And  if  it  v/ere  true,  that  they  were  thus  naturally 
vain  and  light,  then  how  much  more  blameable  is  that 
education,  which  feems  contrived  to  ftrengthen  and  in- 
creaie  this  folly  and  wcakneis  of  their  minds  ? 

For  if  it  were  a  virtue  in  a  woman  to  be  proud  and 
vain  of  herfelf,  we  could  hardly  take  better  means  to  raile 
this  palTion  in  her,  than  thofe  that  are  now  ufed  in  their 
education. 

5.  *  Matilda  is  a  fine  woman,  of  good  breeding,  and 
great  fenfe.  She  has  three  daughters  that  are  educated 
by  berf  If.  She  will  not  trull  them  with  anyone  elfe, 
or  at  any  iVhool.  for  fear  they  (hould  learn  any  thing  ill. 
She  flays  with  the  dancing  maRer  all  the  time  he  is  with 
them,  becaufe  ilie  will  hsiir  every  thing  that  is  faid  to 


(     161     ) 

tliem.  Slie  lias  heard  them  read  the  Scriptures  To  often' 
tliat  they  can  repeat  great  part  of  it  without  book,  ai.M 
there  is  fcarce  a  good  book  of  devolion,  but  you  may 
find  it  in  their  ch)fets. 

Had  Matilda  lived  in  the  fufl  aq-es  of  chriftianity, 
(Tie  had  in  all  probability  been  one  of  the  greated  faints. 
B'.itas  (he  was  born  in  corrupt  times,  where  fiie  hardly 
ever  favv  a  piety  higher  than  her  own  ;  fo  (lie  has  many 
defedls.   and    communicates  them  to  all  her  daughters. 

6.  Matilda  never  was  meanly  drelfed  in  her  life  ;  and 
nothing  pleafes  her  in  drefs,  but  that  which  is  very  rich, 
and  beautiful  to  tlie  eye. 

Her  daughters  fee  her  great  zeal  for  religion,  but 
then  they  fee  an  equal  earneftnefs  for  all  forts  of  fiu'  ry. 
They  fee  (lie  is  not  negligent  of  her  devotion  ;  but  then 
they  fee  her  more  careful  to  preferve  her  complexion,  and 
to  prevent  thofe  changes  which  time  and  age  threaten 
her  with. 

They  are  afraid  to  meet  her,  if  they  have  miffed  the 
church  ;  but  then  they  are  mare  afraid  to  fee  her,  if  they 
are  not  laced  as  flraight  as  they  can  poiHbly  be. 

Sh^  often  [lie ws  them  her  own  picture,  which  was  ta- 
ken when  their  father  fell  m  l«ve  with  her.  She  tells 
them  how  dillradled  he  was  with  paflion  at  the  hr(i  fight 
of  her  ;  and  that  Tnc  had  never  had  fo  fine  a  complexion, 
but  for  the  diligence  of  her  good  mother,  who  took  ex- 
ceeding care  of  it. 

The  children  fee  fo  plainly  the  temper  of  their  mother, 
that  they  atFcd  to  be  more  pltafcd  with  drefs,  than  they 
really  are. 

'I'hey  law  their  eldeft  filler  once  brought  to  her  tears, 
and  her  pcrverlenefs  leverely  reprunaiuied,  for  preiuni- 
ing  to  fay,  that  (he  thought  it  was  better  to  co\er  the 
neck  than  to  go  fo  far  naked  as  the  modern  drefs  requires. 

7,  She  lliwts  tliem  in  their  meals,  and  is  very  fcrupu- 
lous  of  what  thjy  eat  and  drink-  andttils  tht-m  how  ma- 
ny fine  iliapes  file  has  lecn  fpoilcd  in  her  tim^,  for  want 
of  i'ucii  care. 

VVii-never  they  begin  to  hiok  fanguine  and  heallhfuJ, 
flie  calls  111  the  aililUiice  of  the  dodlor  i  and  if  piiyiiVj  oi- 
O  2 


C     162     ) 

iiTues,  v.-iil  keep  the  complexion  from  Inclining  to  coaiT 
or  r:id::y,    Hie  t!;in].s  t'^cni  v,  ell  employtcl. 

By  this  rr.eanic  they  arc  pcor,  pale,  {ickly,  infirm  crea- 
tures, vapoured  thr^-iic  h  v/ant  of  fplrits,  crying  at  the 
fmalljfi:  accidents,  fvvcoring-  av/ay  iit  any  thing-  thu 
frights  the.'iT,  and  hardly  able  to  bear  the  weight  of 
their  beft  clothes. 

The  eldefl  daaghter  lived  as  long  as  fl;e  could  under 
this  difciphne,  arid  died  in  the  twentieth  year  of  her  age. 

When  her  body  was  opened,  it  appeared  that  her  ribs 
liad  grown  into  her  liver,  and  tliat  her  other  entrails 
%vere  much  hurt,  by  being  crufhed  together  with  her 
flays  ;  which  her  mother  had  ordered  to  be  twitched 
fo  ilralght,  that  it  has  often  brought  tears  into  her  eyes, 
>\h>Hl  the  maid  was  dreiFing  htr. 

Iler  yomgefl:  daughter  is  run  away  with  a  gamefter, 
a  man  of  great  beauty,  who  in  dreihng  and  dancing  has 
110  fuperior. 

Matilda  fays,  fiie  (liould  die  with  grief  at  this  acci- 
dent, but  that  her  confcience  tells  her,  flie  has  contribu-% 
ted  nothing  to  it  herfelf.  She  appeals  to  their  clofets,  to 
their  books  cf  devotion,  to  teflify  what  care  (he  has  ta- 
ken to  eftabliiii  her  children  in  piety. 

8.  Now,  though  I  do  not  intend  to  fay,  tbit  no 
daughters  are  brought  up  in  a  better  way  than  this  ;  yet 
thus  much  may  be  faid,  that  the  greater  part  of  tlieni 
■are  not  brought  up  lb  wtiij  or  accuuomed  to  fo  muci\ 
rcji^'ioi'^ 

Their  n-inds  are  tu  ::•  -"  :.  ^  much  to  the  care  of  their 
beauty  and  drefs,  wiLhou;:  ir/ivlng  fuch  rules  of  devotion 
>to  uand  againft  it.  Su  that  if  folid  piety  is  much  want- 
ed in  that  lex-,  it  is  the  plain  confecuicnce  cf  a  corrupt  cd"» 
vcation. 

And  if  they  are  often  rer.Jy  to  receive  the  iirl  fops^ 
bcaUX,  and  fine  dancers,  for  tiieir  huibands,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  th^y  fiioiiid  Ilk;-  that  in  nicn,  which  they 
have  been  taiight  to  aaiiui-c  in  themiclvcs. 

Soniii  people  Vv'i]I''perhsp3  fa)',  that  i  am  exercifmg 
too  great  a  Icverity  agamit  the  it.  x. 

But  reafonable  perfons  will  obferve,  th^it  I  fpare  thc^ 
fex,  and  only  arraign  their  education  ;  that   i  not  only 


to 


(     163     ) 

fp:irc  tliem,  bat  plead  their  Intcvtft,  afTert  llielr  bor.orr, 
and  only  condemn  that  education  wliich  is  lb  injuri.jus 
thereto. 

Their  education  I  Cr;nnot  fpare  ;  but  the  only  re^i Ton 
is,  bccaiife  it  is  their  £;rfat(,'fl  enemy,  becurfe  itt'epiives 
the  worhl  oi"  ib  many  bleirin^jSj  and  the  cliuich  cf  fo 
many  rhints. 

It  it  Oioiild  lierc  be  faid,  that  I  even  charge  too  h.igh 
upon  their  education,  and  tiiat  they  are  not  lb  niuch  huit 
by  it,  as  1  in»agine. 

It  may  be  unfwered,  that  though  I  do  not  pretend 
.  Hate  the  cx:ict  degree  ofmiichi-if  that  is  done  by  it, 
yet  its  plain  and  natural  tendency  to  do  harm,  is  lulil- 
cient  to  junify  the  molt  ablblute  condemnafion  of  i;.. 

9.  But  how  poiiible  it  is  to  bring  wp  dcUighters  in  a 
more  excellent  way,  let  the  fallowing  charad:er  declare. 

Eutebia  is  a  pious  widow,  well  born,  and  well  bied, 
and  has  a  gogd  ellate  for  five  daughters,  whom  ihe 
brings  vp  as  one  entruHed  by  God,  to  fit  five  virgins 
for  the  kmgdo^n  of  heaven.  Her  family  has  the  fame 
regulation  as  a  reiirpous  houfe,  and  all  its  orders  teiiti  to 
the  iupport  of  a  cci'Rant  regular  devotion. 

She  loves  ti:em  ns  her  fpiritual  children,  and  tl.ty  re- 
verence her  as  their  ipiritual  msther,  with  an  alil ct !on 
far  above  lh:it  of  the  fondeft  friend. 

She  has  divided  part  of  her  eftate  among  them,  that 
every  one  may  be  charitable  out  of  thtir  own  hook, 
and  each  of  them  take  it  in  their  turns  to  provide  for 
the  poor  and  Hck  of  the  parifi). 

Eufebia  brings  them  up  to  all  kinds  of  labour  tji*t. 
are  proper  for  v/omen,  as  fewing,  knitting,  fpinning,  and 
all  other  parts  cf  houfewifery  ;  not  for  their  amufement, 
but  that  they  may  bt.  ferviceable  to  themfclvcs  and 
others,  and  lie  laved  from  thoie  tcm.];tations  wh;c!i  ai- 
t:nd  an  idle  lilb. 

She  tells  them,  flic  had  rather  fee  them  reduced  to 
the  neceiiity  of  maintaining  tliejnfelves  by  tliCir  own 
work;  than  to  have  riches  to  excnfe  themfelves  from 
labour.  For  though,  fays  ihe,  you  may  be  able  to 
ai'lili  the  poor  without  your  labour,  ytt  by  your  iubci^r 
you  will  be  able  toaliiil  them  mere. 


(     154     ) 

]0.  Tf  F/j^f'bi.-i  lrd3  lived  as  free  ^rom  Hn  as  it  is  pof^hle 
f;)r  hunri!!  lu uir:,  it  isbecniic  <})e  is  always  w'atchin^,*^ 
and  i>-uar(.l  TV  i^aind  all  iiil^-incri  ■'f  pride.  And  if  iier 
virtues  are  (Ir'^a  ■,\''-  and  lii^;he;-  than  other  p:*ople'£,  it  is 
bccuufc  thej^  are  all  founded  in  a  deep  humility. 

My  children,  fays  Hie,  v/hen  yoiw  father  died  I  w?s 
inucli  pitied  by  tny  friends,  as  ha\ing  all  the  care  of 
a  f  imily.  aud  the  manag-emetu  of  aneftate  fallen  upon  me. 

But  mv  Okvn  grief  was  founded  upon  another  princi- 
ple :  1  was  grieved  to  fee  niyfelf  deprived  of  fo  faithful 
a  friend  ;  and  tliat  fuch  an  eminent  example  of  Ghrif- 
tian  virtues  flioulJ  be  taken  from  the  eyes  of  his  children, 
before  they  were  of  an  age  to  love  and  follow  it. 

But  as  to  worldly  cares,  which  my  friends  thought  fo 
heavy  upon  me,  they  are  molt  of  them  of  our  own 
making,  and  fill  away  as  foon  as  we  know  ourielves. 

If  a  perf)n  in  a  dream  is  diRurbed  with  ftrange  ap- 
pearances, his  trouble  is  over  as  foon  as  he  is  awake, 
and  fees  that  it  was  a  dream. 

Now,  when  a  right  kiowledge  of  ourfelves  enters 
into  our  minds,  it  makes  as  great  a  change  in  all  our 
thoughts  and  appre'ieiiiioiis,  aj  wiien  we  awake  from 
the  wanderings  of  a  dream. 

We  acknowledge  a  man  to  be  mad  or  melanchoiy,  who 
fancies  himfelf  to  be  glafi,  and  fo  is  afraid  of  itirring; 
or  taking  himfelf  to  be  wax,  dares  not  let  the  fu^i  flune 
upon  him. 

But,  my  children,  there  are  things  in  the  world 
which  pafs  for  wifd:>m,  politenefs,  grand-ur  happinel's, 
and  fine  breeding,  w'iich  ftievvs  as  great  ignorance  i  ^ur- 
felves;  and  might  as  jufHy  pafs  f«}r  thorough  maunefs, 
as  v.hen  a  man  fancies  himfelf  to  be  glais,  ■         e. 

A  woman  that  dares  not  appear  in  the  world  with- 
out fine  clothes,  that  thinks  it  is  a  p.apnincis  to  h.>ve  a 
face  finely  coloured,  to  have  a  Ikin  dci.Cately  fur  that 
had  rather  die  than  be  reduced  u--  poverty  j-iki  be  for- 
ced to  work  for  a  »nainten:;nce,  is  as  igivjrant  of  herfelf 
to  the  full,   as  he  tint  fiactes  biinf<.  If  to  bt  giafs. 

11.  F  fr  this  rcafon,  all  my  difcojrfe  wica  you.  has 
been  to  acc_^uaiju  you  with  yourfelves,  and  to  uccullom 


(     165     ) 

you    to  fuch  books,  as    might  befl    inflrud  you  in  thu 
greatcft  of  all  knowledge. 

Ycu  v/ould  think  it  iiard,  Jiot  to  know  tlie  family 
into  Y.hith  you  were  born,  what  anceftors  you  were  de- 
ftended  from,  eikI  what  eftate  was  to  come  to  you. 
But,  my  childieii,  you  may  know  all  this  with  exaft- 
iicis-  and  yet  be  as  ignorant  of  yourfclves,  as  he  that 
takes  hlmfclf  to  be  wax. 

For  though  you  were  all  of  you  born  of  my  body, 
ai)d  bear  your  father's  name,  yet  you  are  all  of  you  pure 
fpirits.  I  do  not  mean  that  you  have  not  bodies  ;  but  that 
all  which  defervcs  to  be  called  you,  is  nothing  elfe  but 
fpirit.  A  being  fpiritual  and  rational  in  its  nature  ;  that 
is  as  contrary  to  all  corporeal  beings,  as  life  is  contrary 
to  deatk  ;  that  is  made  in  the  image  of  God,  to  live 
for  ever,  never  to  ceafe  any  more,  but  to  enjoy  life, 
and  reafon,  and  knowledge,  and  happinefs  in  the  prefcnce 
of  God,  and  the  focicty  of  angels,  and  glorious  fpirits, 
to  all  eternity. 

Every  thing  that  you  call  yours,  befides  this  fpirit, 
is  but  like  your  clothing  ;  fomething  that  is  only  to  be 
ufed  for  a  while,  and  then  to  end,  and  die,  and  wear 
away-,  and  to  fignify  no' more  to  you,  than  the  cloth- 
ing and  bodies  of  other  people. 

12.  But,  my  children,  you  are  not  only  in  this  man- 
ner fpirits,  but  you  are  fallen  fpirits,  that  began  your 
l.fe  in  a  Ibite  of  corruption  and  diforder,  full  of  tem- 
pers and  pjilfions,  that  blind  and  darken  your  reafon, 
and  incline  you  to  that  which  is  hurtful. 

Your  bodies  arc  not  cr.ly  poor  and  periDiing  like 
your  clothes,  but  they  are  like  ill  infi  cted  ch-thes,  that 
fill  you  with  all  dileales,  which  cpprel's  the  I'oul  with 
fickly  appetites,   and  vain  cravings. 

So  that  all  of  us  are  like  two  beings,  that  have,  as  it 
were,  two  hearts  within  us  ;  with  the  one  we  fee,  and 
tafle,  and  admiie  rcafcn,  aaid  holinefs  ;  with  the  other 
we  incline  to  pride,  and  vanity,  and  fcnfual  dt  lights. 

If  you  would  knovv  the  one  thing  nectffaiy  to  ull  the 
world,  it  is  this  ;  to  prefervc  and  perfedl  all  that  is  ra- 
tional, holy  and  divine  in  our  nature,  .and  to  r.ioriify, 
remove,  and  deftroy  all  vanity,  pride,  a,nd  fenfuality. 


(     166     ) 

•  Could    yon   tliinl:,  my   children,  when    you   look   at' 
the  wcrla,  and  fee  what  curioms,  and  fatliions,  and  plea-, 
lures,   and  troubles,  and  proje^Tts,  employ  the  hearts  and 
time  of  mankind,  that  things  were  thus  ? 

But  do  not  bs  Kffefled  at  tlieie  things  ;  the  world  is 
in  a  Threat  dream,   and  but  fe^  people  are  awake  in  it. 

W^e  fancy  that  \\t  fall  into  darknefs,  v  hen  we  die  : 
hut  'cilas,  Ave  are  n=3ofl  of  us  in  the  dark  till  then  ;  and 
th.c  eyes  of  our  fouls  only  then  begin  to  fee,  when  our 
botlily  eyes  are  clofmg. 

13.  You  fee  then  your  flate,  my  children  ;  you  are 
to  iinprove  and  perfeifl  the  fpirit  that  is  within  you  ; 
you  are  to  prepare  it  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  to 
iioiirilh  it  with  tlie  love  of  God,  to  adorn  it  with  good 
works,  and  to  make  it  Jis  holy  and  heavenly  as  you 
can.  You  are  to  preferve  it  from  the  errors  and  vani- 
ties of  the  world  :  to  fave  it  rVom  the  corruptions  of  the 
'body,  from  thofe  fcdfe  delights,  and  fenfual  tempera 
Avliich  the  body  tempts  it  with. 

You  are  to  nourilh  your  fpirits  with  pious  reading^;, 
and  holy  meditations,  witli  watchings,  fafiings,  and 
prayers,  that  you  may  relilh  that  eternal  flate  which  is 
to  begin  when  this  life  ends. 

As  to  your  bodies,  you  are  to  ccnfider  them  as  poor, 
perilhing  things,  tliat  are  corrupt  at  prclVnt,  and  will 
foon  drop  into  common  dull  ;  you  are  to  watch  over 
them  as  enemies,  ciiat  are  always  trying  to  betray  yon, 
raid  fo  oever  follow  their  coiinfel;  you  are  to  confider 
them  as  the  place  and  habitation  of  your  fculs,  and  fo 
keep  them  clean  and  decent  ;  you  are  to  conf  der  the-ia 
iis  the  fervants  and  inflruments  of  at^lon,  ajid  fo  give 
them  food,  and  relt,  and  raiment,  that  ihey  may  be 
frrv;ng  and  heidthful  to  do  tiic  duties  of  a  charitable, 
iiiefiil,   and  pi;, 1,3  life. 

Whil't  you  live  thus,  you  live  like  yourfelves  ;  and 
wii-never  you  have  lef?  regard  to  your  fouls,  or  more 
repaid  to  your  bodies  ;  whenever  j'ou  are  more  intent 
upoa  adorunig  yonr  perfons,  than  upon  perfcdling  your 
fouU,  you  are,  much  more  befide  yourfelves,  th?ai  he 
that  hud  rather  i-ave  a  lacsd  coat,  than  a  healthful  body. 

14.  For  this  rcifan;  my  children,  I  have  taught  you 


(    iw    ) 

nothing  that  was  dr.ngerou..  for  you  to  learn  :  I  have 
kept  you  from  every  thing  that  might  bvitray  you  into 
weaknefs  and  folly  :  or  make  you  think  any  thing  fine, 
but  a  fine  mind  ;  any  thing  liappy,  but  the  favour  of 
God  ;  or  any  thing  defirable,  but  to  do  all  the  good  you 
poffibly  can. 

InP.ead  of  the  vain,  immodefl:  entertainment  of  plavs, 
and  operas.  I  have  taught  you  to  delight  in  vifiting  the 
fick  and  poor.  What  muhc,  and  dancing,  and  diverlions 
are  to  many  in  the  world,  that  prayers  and  devotions, 
and  pfalms  are  to  you.  Your  hands  have  not  been  cm- 
ployed  in  plaiting  the  hair,  and  adorning  yourperfons; 
but  in  Hjaking  clothes  for  the  naked.  You  have  not 
wafted  your  f(  rtunes  upon  ycurfelves,  but  have  added 
your  labour  to  them,   to  do  more  good  to  other  people. 

Inftead  of  forced  fljapcs,  genteel  airs,  and  affededmo^ 
lions,  I  have  taught  you  to  conceal  your  bodies  with 
modcft  garments,  and  let  the  world  have  nothing  to  view 
of  you.  but  theplaijHiefs,  and  fincenty,  and  humility  of 
all  your  behaviour. 

15.  You  know  my  children,  the  high  perfedion,  and 
the  great  rewards  of  virgijiity  ;  you  know  how  it  frees 
from  worldly  cares  and  troubles,  and  furnifhes  means 
and  opportunities  of  hi,r;her  advancements  in  the  divine 
lite.  Therefore  love  and  cileem,  and  honour  virgini- 
ty :  blefs  God  for  all  that  glorious  company  of  holy 
virgins,  that  from  the  beginning  of  chnltiauity  have, 
in  the  feveral  ages  of  the  church,  renounced  the  cares 
and  pleafures  of  matrimony,  to  be  perpetual  examples 
ot  contemplation  and  prayer. 

But  as  every  one  has  their  proper  gift  from  God,  as 
I  look  upon  you  all  to  be  fo  niany  great  bleliings  of  a 
married  ftate  ;  fo  I  leave  to  your  choice,  either  to  do 
as  I  have  done,  or  to  afpire  after  higher  degrees  of  per- 
fedion  in  a  virgin  ftate. 

I  prcfs  nothing  upon  you,  but  to  make  the  mofl  of 
human  life,  and  to  aipire  after  pcrfeclion  in  whatever 
{late  you  chufc. 

Never  therefore  confider  yourfelves  as  perfons  that 
are  to  be  fecn,  admired,  and  courted  by  men  ;  but  as 
f oor  finnersj  that  are  to  fave  yourfelves  irom  the  vani- 


(     168     ) 

ties  and  follies  of  a  miferable  world.  Learn  to  live 
for  your  own  lakes,  and  the  fervice  of  God  ;  and  let 
nothing  in  the  world  be  of  any  value  with  you,  but 
that  which  you  can  turn  into  a  fervice  to  God,  and  a 
means  of  your  future  happinefs. 

16.  Whether  married  therefore,  or  unmarried,  con- 
fider  yourfelves  as  mothers  and  fillers,  as  friends  and  le- 
lations  to  all  that  want  your  afliflance  ;  and  never  al- 
low yourfelves  to  be  idle,  whilft  others  are  in  want  of 
■any  thing  that  your  hands  can  make  for  them. 

This  ufeful,  charitable,  humble  employment  of  your- 
felves, is  what  I  recommend  to  you  with  great  earnelU 
nefs  ;  and  befules  the  good  you  will  thereby  do  to  other 
people,  your  ov/n  hearts  will  be  improved  by  it. 

For  next  to  reading,  meditation,  and  prayer,  there  is 
nothing  that  fo  fecures  our  hearts  from  fooIif}>  pallions, 
as  fome  ufeful,  humble  employment  of  ourfelves. 

Never  therefore  confider  your  labour  as  an  amufement, 
that  is  to  get  rid  of  your  time,  and  fo  may  be  as  trifling 
as  you  pleafe  ;  but  confider  it  as  fomething  that  is  to 
be  ferviceable  to  yourfelves  and  others,  that  is  to  ferve 
fome  fober  ends  of  life,  to  fave  and  redeem  your  time, 
and  make  it  turn  to  your  aecount  when  the  works  of  all 
people  ftiall  be  tried  by  fire. 

If  there  is  any  good  to  be  done  by  your  labour,  if 
you  can  polTibly  employ  yourfelves  ufefully  to  other 
people,  how  filly  is  it,  how  contrary  to  the  wifdom  of 
religion,  to  make  that  a  mere  amufement,  which  miglit 
as  eafily  be  made  an  exercife  of  the  greateft  charity  ! 

What  would  you  think  of  the  wifdom  of  him,  that 
fliould  employ  his  time  in  diflilling  of  waters,  a^d 
making  liquors  which  nobody  could  ufe,  merely  to  a- 
mufe  himfflf  with  the  variety  of  their  colour,  when, 
■with  lefs  labour  and  expenfe,  he  might  fatisfy  the  wants 
of  thofe  who  have  nothing  to  drink  ? 

Yet  he  would  be  as  wifely  employed,  as  thofe  that 
are  amufing  themfelves  with  fuch  tedious  works  as  they 
neither  need,  nor  hardly  know  how  to  ufe  when  they 
are  finiflied  ;  when,  with  lefs  labour  and  expenfe,  they 
might  be  doing  as  much  good,  as  he  that  is  clothing 
the  naked,  or  vifiting  the  fick. 


(     169     ) 

B?  glad  tlierctore  to  kno\y  the  wants  of  t]i«  poorcft 
people,  and  let  your  hands  be  employed  in  making  fncK 
tilings  for  them,  as  their  neceliities  require.  By  thus 
making  your  labour  a  gift  and  fervice  to  the  poor,  your 
oidinary  work  will  be  changed  into  a  holy  fervice,  and 
made  as  acceptable  to  God  as  your  devotions. 

This  will  make  you  true  difciples  of  yoar  meek  Lord 
and  Mafter,  who  came  into  the  worlds  net  to  be  minister* 
ed  untOy  but  to  minister  ;  and  though  he  was  Lord  of  all, 
and  among  the  creatures  of  his  own  making,  yet  was 
among  them  as  one  that  serveth, 

17.  Chriftianity  has  then  had  its  cfFed\  upon  your 
hearts,  when  it  has  removed  pride  from  you,  and  made 
you  delight  in  humbling  yourfclves  beneath  the  loweft 
of  all  your  fellow-creatures. 

Live  therefore,  my  children,  as  you  have  begun  your 
lives,  in  humble  labour  for  the  good  of  others  :  not  in 
ceremonious  vifits  and  vain  acquaintances.  Gontraft 
no  foolifh  friendfhips,  or  vain  fondneffes  for  particular 
perfons  ;  but  love  them  mod,  that  moft  turn  your  love 
towards  God,  and  your  compaffion  towards  all  the 
world. 

But  above  all,  avoid  the  converfation  of  fine-bred 
fops  and  beaux,  and  hate  nothing  more  than  the  idle 
difcourfe,  the  flattery  and  compliments  of  that  fort  of 
men  ;  for  they  arc  the  (hame  of  their  own  fex,  and 
ought  to  be  the  abhorrence  of  yours. 

When  you  go  abroad,  It  humility,  modefly,  and  a 
decent  carnage,  be  all  the  (late  you  take  upon  you  ;  and 
let  tendernefs,  compailion,  and  good  nature,  be  all  the 
fine  breedi^igyou  Ihew  in  any  place. 

If  evil  fpeaking,  fcandal,  or  backbiting,  be  tlfe  conver- 
fation where  you  happen  to  be,  be  as  much  grieved,  as 
if  you  was  amongfl:  curfing  and  fwearing,  and  retire  as 
foon  as  you  can. 

Though  you  intend  to  marry,  yet  let  the  time  never 
come,  till  you  find  a  man  that  has  thole  pertediona 
which  you  have  been  labouring  after  yourfclves  ;  who 
is  likely  to  be  a  friend  to  all  your  virtues,  and  with 
whom  it  is  better  to  live,  than  to  want  the  benefit  of 
kis  example. 

P 


(    is-o   ) 

IB*  Love  poverty,  and  reverence  poor  people  ;  as  for 
roany  reafons,  fo  particularly  for  this,  becaiifc  our  blef- 
fed  Saviour  was  one  of  the  number. 

Vifit  and  converfe  with  them  frequently  ;  you  will 
often  find  fimplicity.  innocence,  patience,  fortitude,  and 
u  g-reat  piety  amongft  them. 

Rejoice  at  every  opportunity  of  doing  an  humble 
aftion  ;  whether  it  be,  as  the  fcripture  expreffcs  it,  in 
walhing  the  faints*  feet,  that  is,  in  waiting-  upon,  and 
ferving  thofe  that  are  below  you,  or  in  bearing  with 
the  haughtinefs  and  ill-manners  of  thofe  that  are  your 
equals,  or  above  you.  For  there  is  nothing  better  than 
humility  ;  it  is  the  fruitful  foil  of  all  virtues,  and  every 
thing  that  is  kind  and  good,  naturally  grows  from  it. 

Therefore,  my  children.' pray  for,  and  pradife  humi- 
lity :  And  rejeft  every  thing  in  drefs,  or  carriage,  or 
converfation.  that  has  any  apj>earancc  of  pride. 

Strive  to  do  every  thing  that  is  praile -worthy,  but 
do  nothing-  in  order  to  be  pialfed  ;  nor  think  of  any  re- 
ward for  your  labours  of  love,  till  Chrift  cometh  with 
all  his  holy  angels. 

19.  And  above  all,  my  children,  have  a  care  of  vain 
thoughts  of  your  own  virtues.  For  as  foon  as  ever  peo- 
ple live  different  from  the  common  way  of  the  world) 
the  devil  reprefents  to  their  minds  the  height  of  their 
perfe<flions  ;  and  is  content  they  fliould  excel  in  good 
works,  provided  he  can  make-theiH  proud'of  them. 

Therefore  watch  over  your  virtues  with  a  jealous  eye, 
and  rejcdl  every  vain  thought,  as  you  would  rejedl  the 
moft  wicked  imaginations  ;  and  think  what  a  lofs  it 
would  be  to  yon,  to  have  the  fruit  of  all  your  good 
%vorks  devoured  by  the  vanity  of  your  minds. 

Never  therefore  allow  yourfelves  to  defpife  thofe 
who  do  not  follow  your  rules,  but  love  them,  and  pray 
to  God  for  them  ;  and  let  humility  be  always  whifper- 
ing  in  your  ears,  that  you  yourfelves  would  fall  from 
thofe  rules  to-morrow,  if  God  fhould  leave  you  to  your 
own  ftrength  and  wifdom. 

When  therefore  you  have  fpcnt  days  and  weeks  well, 
do  not  fuffer  your  hearts  to  contemplate  auy  thing  ai 


(    in    ) 

your  own,  but  give  all  the  glory  to  God,  who  has  car- 
ried you  through  luch  rules  of  holy  living',  as  you  were 
not  able  to  obferve  by  your  own  Itrength  ;  and  take 
care  to  begin  the  next  day,  not  as  proficients  in  virtue, 
that  can  do  great  matters,  but  as  poor  beginners,  that 
want  the  daily  afliftance  of  God,  to  fave  you  from  the 
groffefl  fins. 

20.  your  dear  father  was  an  humble,  watchful,  pi- 
ous, wile  man.  Whilrt  his  ficknefs  would  fuffer  him 
to  talk  with  me,  his  diicourfe  v;as  chiefly  about  your 
education,  lie  knew  the  benefits  of  humility,  he  faw 
the  ruins  which  pride  made  in  our  fex  ;  and  therefore 
be  conjured  me  with  the  tendered  exprefHons,  to  re- 
nounce the  falbionuble  ways  of  educating  daughters  in 
pride  and  foftneis,  in  the  care  of  their  beauty  and  drefs; 
and  to  bring  you  all  up  in  the  plainefl,  fimpleft  inflances 
of  an  humble,  holy,  and  induftrious  life. 

He  taught  me  an  admirable  rule  of  humility,  which 
he  praftifed  all  the  days  of  his  life  ;  which  was  this,  to 
let  no  morning  pafs,  without  thinking  upon  fome  frail- 
ty and  infirmity  of  our  own,  that  may  put  us  to  confufion, 
make  us  blulh  inwardly,  and  entertain  a  mean  opinion 
of  ourfelves. 

Think  therefore,  my  children,  that  the  foul  of  your 
good  father,  who  is  now  with  God,  foeaks  to  you 
tlirough  my  mouth  ;  and  let  the  double  defire  of  your 
failiL-r  who  is  gone,  and  rae  who  am  with  you,  prevail 
upon  you  to  love  God.  to  fludy  your  own  perfcftion, 
to  pradife  humility  and  with  innocent  labour,  to  do 
all  the  good  you  can  to  all  your  fellow-creatures,  till 
God  calls  you  to  another  life. 

*  Thus  did  the  pious  widow  educate  her  daughters. 
And  a  very  ordinary  knowledge  of  the  fpirit  of  chrif- 
tianity  may  convince  us,  tliat  no  education  can  be  of 
true  advantage  to  younr^^  women,  but  that  which  trains 
them  up  in  humble  indultry,  in  great  plainn^:  fs  of  life,  ex- 
a<:l  modrRy  of  drci's,  mann-'r;,  and  carjiage,  and  inrtriil 
cev';:ion.  For  what  fhould  a  Chriflian  wonian  be,  but 
a  plain,  unairrft^d.  m oJeft,  humble  creature,  averfe  to 
every  cnin^  ui  her  dreis  nnd  carriage,  that  tan  draw  the 


(     172     ) 

eyes  ef  beholders,  ©r  gratify  the  paflians  of  lewd  and 
amorous  peifons  ? 

21.  *  Thefe  conriderations  may  teach  you  to  let  no 
day  pais,  Avithoiit  a  lericus  application  to  God,  for  the 
■\viiole  fp"u  it  of  humility.  Fervently  befceching  him  to 
fill  every  part  of  your  fouls  with  it,  to  make  it  the  rul- 
ing, conftant  habit  of  your  mind,  that  you  may  jiot  on- 
ly feel  it,  but  feel  all  vt^ur  other  tempers  arifing  fron?  it; 
that  you  may  have  no  thonghts,  no  delires,  no  defigns, 
but  fuch  ?s  are  the  true  fruits  of  an  humble,  meek,  and 
lowly  heart. 

That  you  may  always  appear  poor,  and  little,  and 
mean  in  your  own  eyes,  and  fully  content  that  others 
fiiould  have  the  fame  opinion  of  you. 

That  the  whole  courfe  of  your  life,  your  expenfc, 
your  houfc,  your  drefs,  your  manner  of  eating,  drinking, 
converfing,  and  doing  everything,  may  be  lb  many  coHr 
tinual  proofs  of  the  humility  of  your  heart. 

That  you  may  look  for  nothing,  claim  nothing,  re- 
fcnt  nothing  ;  that  you  may  go  through  all  the  adlio.is 
•f  life,  calmly,  and  quietly,  as  in  the  prefeiice  of  God, 
looking  wholly  unto  him,  adliiig  wholly  for  him  ;  nei- 
ther fetking  applaufe,  nor  relenting  negleds,  or  af- 
fronts, but  doing  and  receiving  every  thing,  in  the 
meek  and  lowly  Spirit  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jefus 
Ghnlt. 


CHAP.     XVI, 


Recommending  devotion  at  tivehe  o'clock^  called  in  Scrip- 
ture the  sixth  heur  of  the  day,  'I  his  frequency  cf  devoti- 
on equally  desirable  by  all  orders  of  people.  Universal 
love  is  recommended  to  be  the  subject  of  prayer  at  thif 
hour.   Of  intercession  as  an  act  of  universal  love. 

1.  TT   will  perhaps   be   thought  by    fomc,    that  thefe 
X  hours  of  prayer  come  too  thick,  and  are   only  fit 

for  monafleries,  or  fuch  people  as  have  no  more  to  do  ia 

the  world  than  they  have. 
To  this  it  is  anfwered, 


(  1"  ) 

This  method  of  devotion  is  not  prcfTcd  upon  any  as 
abfolutely  neccffary,  but  reco'.nir.triided  to  all  people,?.^ 
thr  beft,  the  happieft  way  of  life. 

And  if  exemplary  devotion  is  as  much  thf  happincfs 
and  perfed\ion  of  a  merchant,  a  foldier,  or  u  man  of  qua- 
lity, as  it  is  the  happinefs  and  perfedlion  of  the  mod 
retired,  contemplative  life,  then  it  is  as  proper  to  recom- 
mend it  without  any  abatements  to  one  order  of  men, 
as  to  anotlier. 

Here  is  therefore  no  excufe  for  men  of  bufmcfs  and 
figure.  Firft,  becaufe  it  would  be  to  excufe  them  from 
that  which  is  the  end  of  living,  to  make  them  lefs  bene- 
ficial to  themfclves,  and  lefs  ferviceable  to  God  and  the 
world. 

*  Secondly,  Becaufe  mod  men  of  bufinefs  and  figure 
engage  too  far  in  worldly  matters  ;  much  farther  than 
the  reafons  of  human  life  or  the  neceflities  of  the  world 
require. 

*  Merchants  and  tradefmen,  for  inRance,  are  gene- 
rally ten  times  fartherengagedinbufinefs  than  they  need'; 
which  is  fo  far  from  being  a  reafonable  excufe  for  their 
"want  of  time  for  devotion,  that  it  is  their  crime,  and 
rnuR  be  cenfured  as  a  blam'eable  inllance  of  covctoufnela 
and  ambition. 

Gentry  and  people  of  figure  either  give  themfclves  I'p 
to  ftate-employments,  or  to  thegratincatlons  of  their  pal- 
fions,  in  a  life  of  gaiety  and  dtbauchery  ;  and  if  thclc 
things  mi^ht  be  admitted  as  allowable  avocations  irora 
devotion,  devotion  murt  be  reckoned  a  poor  circunifhir.ce 
of  lii.^. 

Unlefs  gentlemen  can  fliew  that  they  have  another 
God,  than  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jcfus  Chrill  ;  ano- 
ther nature,  than  that  which  is  derived  from  Adam  ; 
another  religion  than  the  Chriflian«  it  is  in  vain  to  plead 
their  ftatc,  an^i  dignity,  as  reafons  for  not  preparing 
tiieir  louls  for  God,   by  a  ftrift  and  regular  devoiicn. 

2.  If  a  m-rchant  having  foro.rii  too  great  buhnefs, 
that  he  might  quit^tly  attend  on  the  fcrvice  of  (Jod, 
fiionhi  die  worth  twenty-  infl-ad  of  fifty  iii"ufa.ul  pounds, 
coul  I  any  one  fay  he  had  millaken  his  calling  or  gone 
a  loier  out  of  the  world  i 

P  2 


(     ^74    ) 

.  Ifagcntienian  fliould  have  killed  fewer  foxes,  been 
lefs  frequent  at  balls,  gaining,  and  meny  meetings,  be- 
caufe  Aatcd  parts  of  his  time  had  been  given  to  rttire- 
inent,  to  n^editatioK  and  devotion,  could  it  be  thought, 
that  when  he  left  the  world,  he  would  regret  the  iof?  of 
thofe  hours,  that  he  had  given  to  the  improvement  of 
his  foul  ? 

If  a  tradefman  by  afpiring  after  Chriftian  ptrfeftion, 
and  retiring  often  from  bufjnels,  fliould,  inftcid  cflt:a\- 
ing  his  children  fortunes  to  fpend  in  luxury  ai.d  idleiu-f  , 
leave  them  to  live  by  their  own  fconeft  labour  ;  cculcl  it 
"be  faid,  that  he  had  made  a  wroi)g  ufe  of  the  world,  bt- 
caui'e  he  had  more  regard  to  that  which  is  eternal,  fhan 
to  this  which  is  fo  loon  to  be  at  an  end  ? 

Since  therefore  devotion  is  not  olily  the  beft  and  moil 
defjrable  praftice  in  a  cloiQer,  but  in  every  flatcoflife, 
they  that  dtfire  to  be  excufed  from  it,  bccaufc  they 
are  men  of  ligure.  andeftates,  and  bufinefs,  are  no  wifer 
tb:\n  thofe,  that  fhould  delire  to  be  excufed  fiom  health 
and  happinefs,  becaufc  they  were  men  of  figure  andeftates.. 

3.  1  cannot  fee  why  every  gentleman,  n  erchant,  or 
foldier,  fhould  not  put  thefe  qaeftions  ferioull)  to  him- 
fclf : 

Hliat  is  the  best  thing  for  me  to  aim  at  in  all  nij  ac- 
tions ^  How  shall  J  do  lomake  the  most  ^f  human  lift  ? 
WJiat  ivajs  shall  I  wish  that  I  liad  taken^  ivJten  I  am 
ha-cing  the  world? 

Now  to  be  thus  wife  feems  hut  a  fmali  and  neceff^ry 
piece  of  wifdom.  For  hov/  can  we  pretend  to  fenfe 
ancl  judgment,  if  we  dare  not  ferioully  confider,  and 
ijovern  our  lives  by  that  which  fuch  queflions  require 
of  us? 

Shall  a  iiobknian  think  his  birth  too  high  to  conde- 
fceiid  to  fuch  queftions  as  thefe  ?  Or  a  tradefman  think 
hi:;  bufmefs  too  great,  to  take  a^iy  care   about  Kimiclf  ? 

r-^'ow  here  is  defired  no  more  devotion  in  any  ouje's 
life,  than  the  anfwering  thefe  ftw  queftions  requires. 

Any  devotion  that  is  not  to  the  gieater  advantage  of 
hin.  that  ufes  it,  than  any  thing  he  can  do  in  the  room 
of  It ;  any  devotion  that  docs  not  procure  an  iufinitely 


(      175     ) 

-greater  good,  tlian  can  bt  got  by  neg]c<ftfnj  it,  is  yield- 
rd  up. 

Rut  if  people  u'ill  live  in  fo  much  ignorance,  as  never 
to  put  tbcfc  qu-^^ftions  to  themfclves,  but  pufh  on  a  blind 
life  3t  ail  chances,  in  quf  fl  cf  they  Vi.uw  nc^t  vi-.at,  or 
\vliy  ;  without  ever  conlidering'  the  worth,  or  value,  or 
tendency'  of  their  aftions,  v^ithout  confidering-  what 
God,  rea-fon.  eternity,  and  tlieir  own  happinefs  requires 
of  them  ;  it  is  for  the  honour  of  devotion,  th:Jt  none 
can  negie£l  it,  but  thofe  who  are  thus  incrnHderate, 
who  dare  not  enquire  after  that  which  is  the  be(t,  and 
mofl  worthy  of  their  choice, 

4.  *  It  is  tiue,  Claudius,  you  are  a  man  of  figure  and 
fftate,  and  are  to  a6l  the  part  cf  fuch  a  flation  in  liie  ; 
you  are  not  called  as  Elijah  was,  to  be  a  piophet..  oi  as 
St.  Paul,  to  be  an  apoRle. 

But  v/ill  y<iu  therefore  not  love  yourfelf  ?  Will  ycH 
not  feek  and  Oudy  your  own  happinefs  ? 

Yon  would  thi!4:  it  very  abiurd  for  a  man  not  to 
value  his  <wn  health,  becauie  he  was  rot  a  phyficiiin  ; 
or  the  prtfeivation  cf  his  limbs  btcauie  he  was  not  a 
bone-i'eiter.  Yet  it  is  iKore  Jtbiurd  icr  you  Clauauis,  to 
negiedl  the  improvement  of  your  ioul,  becufe  you  are 
not  an  apoftle  or  a  bilhop, 

*  Confider  "  we  niuft  all  appea'r  before  the  jud^  ment 
feat  of-ChriA,  that  every  one  may  receive  the  things  dcrc 
in  his  body,  accoitiing  to  that  he  hath  done,  v\hethei  it  be 
focd  or  bad."  2  Cor.  v,  ;0.  Now  if  your  eftate  w(  uld 
exciife  you  from  appearing  before  this  judgment  feat  ; 
if  your  figure  could  protect  you  from  receiviHg  accord- 
ing to  your  works,  there  would  be  feme  pretence 
for  your  leaving  devotion  to  other  people.  But  if 
you,  who  are  now  thus  difiinguilhed,  muft  then  ap- 
pear naked  amongft  common  fouls,  without  any  other  cKf- 
tin£lion  from  oliiers,  but  fuch  as  your  virtues  or  lins 
give  you  ;  does  jtiiot  as  much  concern  you,  as  any  pro- 
.  phet  or  ap(^(lle,  to  make  the  bcft  proviuon  for  that 
.  groat  day  i* 

Cor.l'der  the  words  cf  St.  Peter  :  ^'  As  he  which  hatk 
called  y  ra  i.v  iioiy.  fo  be  ye  holy  in  all  manner  of  conver- 
fation,"    I  Pet.  i.  15. 


(    i^e  ) 

If,  therefore,  Claudius,  you  are  one  of  thofe  here  cal- 
led, you  lee  what  it  is  that  you  are  called  to.  It  is  not 
to  have  fo  rnuch  religion  as  Cuits  with  your  temper, 
your  bu(jne{s,  or  your  pleai'ures  ;  it  is  not  a  particular 
iort  of  piety,  that  may  be  fufficient  for  gentlemen  of 
figure  and  eftate  ;  but  it  is  f<ii\,  to  be  holy  as  he  whicli 
halli  called  you  is  holy  ;  fecondly,  it  is  to  be  thus  holy  in 
all  manner  of  convcrfa:ion  ;  that  is,  to  carry  this  fpu-it 
and  degree  of  holincis  into  every  part,  and  through  the 
whole  form  of  your  life. 

And  the  reafon  the  apoflle  immediately  gives,  why 
this  fpirit  of  halinefs  muft  be  the  conrmoii  fpirit  of 
Chriftians,  as  fuch,  is  very  afFecling,  and  fuch  as  equal- 
ly calls  upon  all  forts  of  Gliriftians.  "  Forafmuch  as  ye 
know,  that  ye  were  not  redeemed  with  corruptiblethings, 
as  filver  and  gold,  from  your  vain  Gonverfation,—.^ — but 
with  the  precious  blood  of  Chrift." 

As  if  he  had  faid,  forafmuch  as  yc  know  ye  wefe 
made  ca})able  of  this  Oate  of  holinefs,  entered  into  a 
fociety  with  Chrift,  and  made  heirs  of  his  glory,  not 
by  any  human  means,  but  by  fuch  a  myiterious  inl^ance 
of  love,  as  infinitely  exceeds  every  thing  that  can  bq 
thought  of  in  this  world  ;  fince  God  has  redeemed  yoa 
to  hiiiifelf,  and  your  own  happinefs,  at  fo  great  a  price, 
how  bafe  and  fliamcful  mull  it  be.  if  you  do  not  hence- 
forth devote  yourlelves  wholly  to  the  glory  of  God, 
and  become  holy,  as   he  who  hath  called  you  is  hi-ly  ?  : 

5.  Again,  tiie  apodle^faith,  "  Know  ye  not-,  that  your 
body  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  GhoO:  which  is  in  you, 
and  ye  are  not  your  own  ?  For  ye  are  bought  with  a  price  ; 
therefore  glorify  God  in  your  body,  and  in  your  fpirit, 
which  are  God's.  "    1   Cor.  vi.    19,  20. 

How  poorly  therefore,  Claudius,  have  you  read  the 
fcripture,  hot/  little  do  you  know  of  chrifiianity,  if  you 
can  talk  of  yoTir  eft-.ice  and  condition,  as  a  pretence  for 
a  freer  knd  oi'  l-fe  ? 

Arc  you  any  more  your  own,  than  lie  that  has  no  ef- 
t?tc  or  digniLy  in  the  w^rld  ?  Mull  mean  and  little  peo- 
ple preferve  cl'.eir  bodies  as  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghoit, 
by  watching,  fafting,  «iiid  prayer  ;  but  may  you  indulge 


(     177     ) 

yours  in  idlenefs,  in  InOs  and  fenfuality,  becaufcyoi!  have 
fc  much  rent,  or  lurh  a  title  of  diftin£lion  ? 

And  you  muft  cither  think  thus,  or  elfe  ackno\v]edf>-e 
that  thc-holinefs  of  faints,  prophets,  and  apoHlcs,  is  the 
holinels  that  you  are  to  labour  after,  with  all  dlirgence 
and  care. 

And  if  you  leave  it  to  others,  to  live  in  fuch  piety 
and  devotion,  in  fuch  felf-denial,  humility  and  temper- 
ance, Hs  may  rendrr  them  able  to  glorify  God  in  their 
body,  and  in  their  fpirit  ;  you  muft  leave  it  to  them  aU 
fo,  to  have  the  benefit  of  the  blood  of  Chrift. 

6.  Thus  much  being  faid  to  fliew  that  great  devotion, 
is  not  to  be  left  to  any  particular  fort  of  people,  but  to 
be  the  common  fpirit  of  all  Chriilians  ;  I  now  proceed  to 
confider  the  nature  of  univerfal  love,  which  is  here  re- 
commended to  be  the  fubjedl  of  your  devotion  at  this 
hour. 

By  interceflion,  is  meant  a  praying  to  God  in  behalf 
of  our  fellow-creatures. 

Our  bleffed  Lord  hath  recommended  his  love  to  us, 
as  the  pattern  of  our  love  to  one  another.  As  there- 
fore he  is  continually  making  interceffion  for  us  all,  fo 
ought  we  to  intercede  for  one  another. 

A  new  commandment,  sai^-h  he^  I  give  unto  jou^  that 
je  kvs  one  anothsr^  as  I  have  loved  you.   By  this  shall  all 
men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples^  if  ye  love  one  another, 
Tiie  newnefs  of  this  prec^rpt  did  not  confiit  in   this, 
that  men    were    commanded   to    love    one  another  ;   for 
this   was  an  old  precept,   both  of  the  law  of  Mofes.  and 
of  nature.      But  it  -was  new  in  tliis  refpecl,  that  it  was 
to  imitate  a  new,  and    till   then  unheard-of  example  of 
love  ;   it  wa^  to  love  one  another,  as  Chrifi:  had  loved  us. 
And    if  men    are    to    know  that  we    are   difciples  of 
Chrifi,  by  our  loving  one  another,  according  to  h:s  ex- 
ample, then   if  we   are    void   of  this   love,  we   make   it 
plainly  known  we  are  none  of  his  difciples. 

7.  There  is  no  principle  more  acceptable  to  God, 
than  an  univerfal  fervent  love  to  all  mankind,  wiPning 
and  praying  for  their  happinefs  ;  becaufe  thcic  is  no 
principle  that   makes   us   more    like  God,  who  is  love 


(     1?8     ) 

and  goodnefs    hfelf,  and  created  all  beings  for  the  en- 
joyment of  happinefs. 

The  greatefl  idea  that  we  can  frame  of  God  is,  a 
being  of  infinite  love  and  goodnefs  ;  ufin^'  infinite 
wif^om  and  power  for  the  common  good  and'happiiicfs 
of  all  his  creatures. 

The  higheft  notion  therefore  that-  we  can  form  of 
man  is,  when  we  conceive  him  as  like  God  in  this  re- 
fpea  as  he  can  be;  iiflng  all  his  finite  faculties,  whe- 
ther of  wifdom,  power,  or  prayers,  for  the  common 
good  of  all  his  fellow  creatures  ;  heartily  dell  ring  they 
«iay  have  all  the  happinefs  they  are  capable  of,  and  as 
many  affiftances  from  him,  as  his  condition  in  the  world 
>vill  parmit  him  to  give  them. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  what  a  bafenefs  and  iniquity 
is  there  in  all  iniUnces  of  hatred,  envy,  fpite,  and  ill- 
will  ;  if  we  confider  that  every  inftance  of  them  is  fo 
far  acling  in  oppcntion  to  God,  and  intending  mifchief 
and  harm  to  thofc  creatures,  which  God  favours,  and 
protects,  and  preferves,  in  order  to  their  happinefs.  An 
ill-natured  man  amongft  God's  creatures,  is  the  mofl: 
perverfe  creature  in  ihe  v^oild,  adling  contrary  to  that 
love,  by  which  himielf  fubGfts,  and  which  alone  gives 
fubijftence  to  all  that  variety  of  beings,  that  enjoy  life 
in  any  part  of  the  creation. 

8.  Whatsoe'Der  yeivould  that  men  should  do  unto you^ 
ex>€n  so  do  unto  the?n. 

Now,  though  this  is  a  doaHne  of  flria  juftice,  yet 
it  is  only  an  univerfal  love  that  can  comply  with  it. 

As  we  have  no  degreej  of  fpite,  or  ill-will  to  onr- 
felvfs.  fo  we  cannot  be  dilpoled  towards  others  as  we 
are  towards  ourfelves,  till  we  univerfally  renounce  all 
inftances  of  fpite,  and  ill-will,  even  in  the  fmallert  de- 
grees. 

IF  we  had  any  impcrfeaion  In  our  eyes,  that  made  us 
fes  any  one  thing  wrong,  for  the  fame  reaion  they  would 
flitw  us  an  hundred  things  wrong. 

So  if  we  have  ?My  temper  of  our  hearts  that  make-  us 
fplteful  or  ill-natured  towards  any  one  iv.au,  the  fame 
temper  wiil  make  us  cnviou*,  and  fpiteful,  and  ill-na- 
tured towards  a  great  many  more. 


(  1^»  ) 

If  therefore  ^vc  6tCne  this  love,  we  inufl  cxcrcife  our 
hearts  in  the  love  of  ail,  becaiife  it  is  not  Chriflian  love, 
till  it  is  the  love  of  all. 

If  a  niRu  could  keep  this  whole  law  of  love,  and  yet 
offend  in  one  point,  he  wruld  be  gnllty  of  nil.  For  as 
one  all<  wed  InRance  of  injuftice  dcfl.cys  the  juftice  of  all 
our  other  adions ;  fo  one  allowed  inOance  of  envy, 
fpite,  or  ill-wilU  renders  all  our  other  aas  of  affVaion 
nothing  worth. 

Ads  of  love,  that  proceed  not  from  a  principle  of 
univerfal  love,  are  but  like  ads  of  juftice,  that  proceed 
from  a  heart  not  difpofed  to  univerfal  juftice. 

9.  Now,  the  noblell  motive  to  univerfal  tendernefs 
IS  this,  God  is  love^  and  he  that  dwelleth  in  love,  dwei- 
leth  in  God. 

Who  therefore,  whofe  heart  has  any  tendency  to- 
wards God,  would  not  afpire  after  this  divine  temper? 

How  fhould  we  rejoice  in  the  exercife  of  this  love» 
which  is  an  affurance  to  us,  that  we  ad  according  to 
his  Spirit,  who  is  love  itfelf! 

God  willcth  the  happinefs  of  all  beings,  though  it  is 
no  happinefs  to  himfelf ;  therefore  we  mutt  dcfire  the 
happinefs  of  all  beings,  though  no  happinefs  cometh  t» 
us  trom  it. 

God  equally  dellghteth  in  the  perfeaions  of  all  hi« 
creatures  ;  therefore  wc  /liould  rejoice  in  thofe  perfedi^ 
ons,  wherever  we  fee  them,  and  be  as  glad  to  have 
other  people  perfeft  as  ourfelves. 

10.  *  God,  befides  his  OAvn  great  example  of  love, 
which  ought  to  draw  all  his  creatures  afcer  it,  has  fo 
provided  for  us,  and  made  our  happinefs  fo  common  to  us 
all,  that  we  have  no  occafion  to  envy  or  hate  one  another. 

For  we  cannot  ftand  in  one  another's  way  ;  or  by 
enjoying  our  true  good,  keep  another  from  his  full  fhare 
of  it. 

As  we  cannot  be  happy,  but  in  the  enjoyment  of  God; 
fo  we  cannot  rob  one  another  of  this  happinefs. 

And  as  to  other  things,  the  enjoyments  of  this  life, 
they  are  fo  little  in  themfelves,  fo  foreign  to  our  happi- 
nefs :  and,  generally  fpeaking,  fo  contrary  to  that  which 
they  appear  to  be,  that  they  are  no  foundation  for  envy, 
or  hatred. 


C    180    ) 

How  filly  would  it  be  to  envy  a  man,  that  was  drink- 
ing poifon  out  of  a  golden  cup!  And  yet  who  can  fay, 
that  he  is  adling-  wifer  than  thus,  when  he  is  envying 
any  inftance  of  worldly  greatnefs  ? 

M.  *  How  many  faints  has  adverfity  fent  to  heaven  ? 
And  how  many  finners  has  profperity  plunged  into  ever- 
lading  mifery  ?  A  man  feems  to  be  in  the  moA  glorious 
ftate,  when  he  has  cowquered,  difgraced,  and  humbled 
his  enemy  ;  though  it  may  be,  that  fame  conqucft  has 
faved  his  adveriary,  and  undone  himfelf. 

This  man  had  perhaps  never  been  debauched,  but  for 
his  fortune  and  advancement ;  that  had  never  been  pious, 
but  through  his  poverty  anddil'gracc. 

She  that  is  envied  for  her  beauty,  may,  perchance 
owe  all  her  mifery  to  it  ;  and  another  may  be  for  ever 
happy,  for  having  no  admirers  of  her  perfon. 

One  man  fucceeds  in  every  thing,  and  fo  lofes  all  : 
Another  meets  with  nothing  but  croffes  and  difappoint- 
ments,  and  thereby  gains  more  than  all  the  world  is 
worth* 

This  clergyman  may  be  undone  by  his  being  made  a 
biftiop  ;  and  that  may  fave  both  himfelf  Rnd  others,  by 
being  fixed  to  his  poor  vicarage. 

How  envied  was  Alexander,  when  conquering  the 
world  ;  he  built  towns,  fet  up  his  ftatutes,  and  left  marks 
of  his  glory  in  fo  many  kingdoms  I 

And  how  defpifed  was  the  poor  preacher  St.  Paul, 
when  he  was  beaten  with  rods!  And  yet  how  ftrangcly 
was  the  world  miftaken  in  their  judgment  1  How  much 
to  be  envied  was  St.  Paul  !  How  much  to  be  pitied  was 
Alexander  I 

Thefe  few  refleftions  fhew,  that  the  different  condi- 
tions of  this  life  have  nothing  in  them  to  excite  our  un- 
eafy  paflions,  nothing  that  can  reafonably  interrupt  our 
love  and  affedlion  to  one  another. 

12.  To  proceed  now  to  another  motive  of  this  univer- 
fal  love. 

Our  power  of  doing  external  adits  of  love,  is  often  ve- 
ry narrow  and  reftrained.  There  are,  it  may  be.  but 
few  people  to  whom  we  can  contribute  any  worldly  re- 
lief. 


(      181      ) 

But  thougli  our  outward  nieane  of  doing-  [^ood  are 
often  thus  limited,  yet  if  cur  hearts  are  full' of  love, 
^ve  get  as  it  were,  an  infinite  power;  becaufc  God  will 
attribute  to  us  thofe  good  works,  which  we  would  have 
performed,  had  it  been  in  our  power. 

You  cannot  heal  all  the  fick,  relieve  all  the  poor  :  yon 
cannot  comfort  all  in  dlltrefs,  nor  be  a  father  to  all  the 
fathcrlefs.  You  cannot,  it  may  be,  deliver  many  from 
their  misfortunes,  or  teach  them  to  find  comfort  in 
God. 

*  But  if  there  is  a  love  in  your  heart,  that  excites  you 
to  do  all  tnat  you  can  ;  if  your  love  has  no  bounds,  but 
continually  wilhes  and  prays  for  the  relief  of  all  that  are 
in  dKhreis,  you  will  be  received  by  God  as  a  bencfaaor 
to  thofe,  who  had  nothing  from  you  but  your  good  will, 
and  tender  aflfeftions. 

You  cannot  build  hofpitals  for  the  incurable  ;  but  if 
ycu  join  in  your  heart  with  thofe  that  do  ;  if  you  are  a. 
friend  to  thefe  great  friends  to  mankind,  and  rejoice  ia 
their  eminent  virtues,  y-su  will  be  received  by  God  as 
a  fliarer  of  fuch  good  works,  as  though  they  had  none 
of  your  hands,  yet  had  all  your  heart. 

This  confideration  furely  is  fufficient  to  make  us 
watch  over  our  hearts  with  all  diligence  ;  and  afpire  af- 
ter the  height  of  a  loving,  charitable,  and  b2ne\oleat 
mind. 

13.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  we  may  hence  learn 
the  ^-reat  evil  of  envy,  fpite,  hatred,  and  ill-will.  For 
if  the  goodnefs  of  our  hearts  will  entitle  us  to. the  re- 
ward of  good  adions,  which  we  never  performed  ;  it  is 
Cfrtiin  that  the  badnefs  of  our  hearts  will  bring  us  un- 
der the' guilt  of  anions  that  we  hkve  never  comipittcd. 

*  As  he  that  lullech  after  a  woman  fhall  be  reckoned 
an  adulterer,  though  he  has  only  committed  the  c.-imc 
in  his  hearc  ;  fo  the  m  ilicious,  fpiteiul,  ill-nauured  m-,n, 
that  only  fecretiy  rejoices  .n  evil,  Hi -.11  "be  reckoned  a 
murderer,  though  h^  h.is  fhed  ao  blood. 

*  Since  therefore  our  hearto,^  which  are  always  naked 
and  open  to  th,  eyes  ot  God,'  give  fuch  an  exceeding 
extent  and  increaft,  either  :o  our  Virtues  or  vices,  it  is 


(     182     ) 

«ur.  grea,ten;  bnfinefs  to  govern  the  motions  of  our  hearts, 
to  correct  and  improve  the  inward  ftate  of  cur  fouls. 

14.  Now  therie  is  nothing  that  fo  much  exalts  our 
fouls,  as  this  heavenly  love  ;  it  cleanfes  and  purifies  like 
a  holy  fire,  and  all  ill  tempers  fall  away  beiore  it.  By 
love,  I  do  not  mean  any  natural  tcndernefs,  which  is 
more  or  leis  in  people,  according  to  their  conf/itutions  ; 
but  a  larger  principle  of  the  foul,  which  makes  us  kind 
to  all  our  fellow-creatures,  as  creatures  of  God,  and 
for  his  fake. 

It  is  this  Icve  that  loves  all  things  in  God,  as  his  crea- 
tures, as  the  images  of  his  power,  a*  the  creatures  of 
his  goodnefs,  as  parts  of  his  family,  as  members  of  his5 
foGiety,  that  becomes  a  holy  principle  of  all  great  and 
good  adiions. 

Thefe  reafons  fufiiclently  (liew,  that  no  love  is  holy, 
or  religious,  till  it  becomes  univerfal. 

For  if  religion  requires  me  to  love  all  perfons,  as 
God's  creatures,  that  belong  to  him,  that  bear  his 
image,  enjoy  his  protedlion,  and  make  parts  of  his  fa- 
mily and  ho.ufehold  ;  if  thefe  are  the  great  reafons  why 
I  fhould  live  in  love  with  any  one  man  in  the  w  orld, 
they  are  the  fame  great  reafons  why  I  fiiould  live  in  love 
^vith  every  man  in  the  world  ;  and  confequently,  I 
offend  againft  all  thefe  reafons,  whenever  I  want  love 
towards  any  one  man.  The  fin  therefore  of  hating 
or  defpifing  any  one  man^  is  like  the  fin  of  hating 
all  God's  creation  ;  and  the  necefTity  of  loving  any 
one  man,  is  the  fame  necellity  of  loving  every  man  in 
the  world.  And  though  many  people  may  appear  to  us 
ever  fo  fiiiful,  odious,  or  extravagant  In  their  conduct, 
■we  muft  never  look  upon  that  as  the  leaft  motive  for 
any  contempt  or  difregard  of  them  ;  but  look  upon  them 
with  the  greater  companion,  as  being  in  the  molt  pit!*- 
able  condition  that  can  be. 

15.  *  As  it  wa'i  the  fiHS  of  the  world,  that  made  the- 
Son  of  God  become  a  compaffionate  fuffcring  Advocate 
for  all  mankind;  fo  no  one  is  of  the  Spirit  of  Chriit, 
but  he  that  has  the  utmoll:  compaiTion  for  tinners.  And 
you  have  never  lefs  reafon  to  be  plcafed  with  yourfelf, 
than  when  you  find  yourfelf  moil  offended  at  the  beha- 


(     18S     ) 

viour  of  othfrs.  All  fiii  is  certainly  to  he  hated  ;  hat 
then,  we  mufl  let  ourft^Ives  agaiufl  lui,  .a<5  wc  do  a^^-ainll 
ficknefs  and  difeafes,  by  (hewing'  ourfelvcs  tender  and 
comjvafllonate  to  the  Tick  and  (^leafed, 

*  All  other  hatred  of  fin,  wliich  does  not  fill  the  heart 
ivlth  the  fofcefl,  tend»rc-ft  affections  towards  perlons  nii- 
ferable  in  it,  is  the  ferva.nt  of  fui  at  the  fainc  time  that 
it  feeirs  to  be  hating  it. 

And  there  is  no  temper  which  even  good  men  ought 
more  carefully  to  guard  againft  than  this.  For  it  is  a 
temper  that  lurks  under  the  cover  of  many  virtues,  and 
by  being  unfufpe6\ed,  does  the  more  mifchltf. 

A  man  naturally  fancies,  that  it  is  his  own  love 
of  virtue  that  raakes  him  not^ible  to  bear  \vith  thofe 
that  want  it  ;  and  when  he  abhai-s  one  man,  defpifc? 
another,  and  cannot  bear  the  name  of  a  third,  he  fup- 
pofes  it  all  to  be  a  proof  of  his  own  high  f^nfe  of  Vir- 
tue, and  juft  hatred  of  fin. 

And  yet  one  would  think  that  a  man  needed  no  other 
cure  for  this  temper,  than  this   one  reflection  : 

That  if  this  had  been  the  fpirit  of  the  Son  of  God,  ii" 
he  had  hated  fin  in  this  manner,  there  had  been  no  re- 
demption of  the  world  :  if  God  had  hated  finners  in 
this  manner,  the  world  itfelf  had  ceafed  long  ago. 

'I'his  therefore  we  may  take  for  a  certain  rule,  that 
tbe  more  we  partake  of  the  divine  nature,  and  the  high- 
er cur  fcnfe  ofvijtLie  is,  the  more  we  fiiall  companion- 
ate thofe  that  want  it.  The  fight  of  fuch  people  will 
then,  inileau  of  rainng  in  us  a  haughty  coutempt,  or 
peevifli  indij^iiatlon  towards  them,  fill  us  vith  fuch  bow- 
el? of  compaiFion,  as  when  we  fee  the  miferiesof  an  hof- 
pitaU 

16.  Ti\'it  the  follies  therefore,  and  ill-behaviour  of 
our  fellow-creatures,  may  not  leflrn  that  love  \vhich  we 
are  to  have  for  ail  mankind,  we  lliould  often  Conlidcr 
the  reafon?  on  which  this  duty  of  love  is  founded. 

Now  we  are  to  love  our  neiglibour,  that  is.  all  man- 
kind, iibt  becaufe  tlj.jy  are  wife,  holy,  or  virtuous  j  for 
-„d  miaklnd  never  was,  nor  ever  will  be  fo. 


(     18-1     ) 

Ag-alii,  if  tliejr  goodnefs  were  the  reafon  of  onv  being 
obll^/'cl  to  love  people,  we  (liouid  have  no  rule  to  pro- 
ceed by  ;  btxaufe  though  fome  people's  virtues  or  vice« 
are  notorious,  yet,  generally  fpeaki-ng,  we  are  but  ill 
judges  of  the  virtue  of  other  ])e(iple. 

Thirdly,  We  are  fure  that  th' virtue  of  perfons,  is  not 
the  reafon  of  our  being  obliged  to  love  them,  btiitufc 
Ave  pre  coininanded  to  pay  the  big  he  11  iniUrccs  of  Icve 
to  our  vv'orA  enemies  ;  we  are  to  love,  and  bU-fs,  a^d 
pray  for  thofe  that  moft  injurioufly  treat  us.  Thi-? 
therefore  h  dc  monftration,  that  the  mevit  of  perfons  i:; 
wot  the  reafon  on  which  cur  obligation  to  love  thcin  is 
founded. 

Let  us  farther  conGder  v.hat  that  love  is  which  we 
owe  to  our  neighbour.  It  is  to  love  him  as  ourfelvf*.^., 
that  iS)  to  wifli  him  every  thing  that  we  may  lawfully 
wifli  to  ourfelves  ;  to  be  glad  of  eveiy  gO(  d,  and  fony 
fs,;r  every  evil  that  happens  to  him  ;  and  to  be  ready  to 
tliJ  him  all  fuch  ads  cf  kindiu-fs,  css  we  are  always  ready 
to  do  to  ourfi'lves. 

This  love  tb.erefr.re,  yen  ftc,  is  nothing  but  a  love 
of  benevolence  ;  it  requires  nothinp;  cf  n\;  \)ut  good  wilh- 
tts,  tender  i/ifcftlciia,  and  fuch  acti  of  kindnefs,  as  v/e 
iiiew  to  ou.'rtlve:^. 

IT.  Mow  we  are  opbligcd  to  this  love,  in  in^.itation  cf 
God's  goodntfs,  that  we  nir.y  be  children  of  cnir  Father 
which  is  in  he-ivevi,  \vho  willeth  th.e  luippinefs  of  all  h>s 
creatures,  aiul  mukcth  his  lun  to  vHV  on  the  evil  and  oi\ 
the  gocd. 

Again,  our  redemption  by  Jcfus  CI  v". fl,  calleth  us  to 
the  exercile  cf  tliia  love,  wluy  came  iVom  heaven,  and 
b.id  down  liis  I'fi'.  cutof  loe  to  ti  c  v.  1  *  \v  {iviiV.l  v/oild. 

Lal^ly,  Our  Lord  and  Saviour  Ira.^  ie(]u;i(,d  us  Lo  luve 
one  another,  as  he  loved  us. 

Thef^.arc  the  gr?:.t,  perpetual  reafr.ns,  on  which  our 
obligatio:*  to  love  all  mankind  as  ouifelvesis  founded. 

Thefe  reafoi"!3  never  vary  ;  tiiey  always  continu.j  in 
tU'::i!iul]  fore*'  ;  and  therefore  equally  oblige  at  all  times, 
and  in  regard  to  all  perfc-ns, 

God  loves  us,  not  becaufe  we  arc  wife,  and  good, 
and  holy,  bi!t  in  pity  to  us,  becaufe  we  want  this  hap» 


(      1S.T     ) 

p'lneTs.  He  loves  us,  in  order  to  make  ns  good.  Our 
love  thererfore  mufl  take  this  c.ourfe  ;  not  lockin^^  for, 
or  requiring  the  merit  of  our  brethren,  but  pitying  their 
diforders,  and  Avifliing  them  all  the  good  that  tiiey  want, 
and  are  capable  of  receiving. 

18.  You  will  perhap"?  afk,  if  you  are  not  to  have  a 
particular  edeem  for  good  men  ?  Yts  ;  but  this  f;P.ecni  is 
very  difTcrenc  from  that  love  of  benevolence  which  wc 
owe  to  our  neighbour. 

The  didin^lion  betwixt  love  of  benevolence  and  cf- 
teem,  is  plain  and  obvious. 

No  man  is  to  hc.ve  a  high  eRcem  for  his  ov^n  accom- 
pliflmients  or  behaviour  ;  yet  every  man  is  to  love  hiin- 
Iclf,  that  is,  to  wifh  well  to  hinifelf ;  therefore  this 
dillindion  betwixt  love  and  cflecm,  is  not  only  plain, 
but  very  nccefTary  to  be  obferved. 

Again,  if  yon  think  it  hardly  polTible  to  diflikc  the 
aftions  of  unreafonable  men,  and  yet  haye  a  true  love 
for  them,  conlkler  this  with  relation  to  yourftlf. 

It  is  very  pofTible  for  you  not  only  to  dillike,  but  to 
deteft  and  abhor  a  great  many  of  your  ov/n  pa  ft  a(ftions. 
But  do  you  ihc.n  iofe  any  of  thofe  tender  fcntiments  to- 
wards yourfcdf,  which  you  ufed  to  have  ?  Do  you  then 
ceafc  to  wilh  well  to  yourfelf  ?  Is  not  the  love  of  your- 
felf  as  ftrong  then  as  at  any  other  time  ? 

Now  what  is  thus  poiTUjle  with  relation  to  ourfelves, 
is  polTible  with  relation  to  others.  Wc  mviy  have  the 
highell  good  wifhes  towards  them,  dciiring  for  tbem 
every  good  that  we  defire  for  ourfelves,  and  yet  at  the 
fame  time  diilike •their  way  of  life. 

19.  To  conclude  ;  all  that  love  which  wc  may  juHiy 
have  for  ourfelves,  we  are  in  fl:rid\  jullice  obliged  to  t*x- 
ercifc  towards  all  other  men  ;  and  wc  olfend  aganift  the 
great  law  of  our  nature,  when  our  tempers  towards 
otliers  are  different  from  thofe  which  we  hav^  tov,\.rd$ 
ourlVlvcs. 

Now  that  felf-love  which  is  jufl:  and  reaforabitr,  keeps 
us  conflantly  tender,  compaQionate,  and  wcil  ^fr^tStv^i  to- 
wards  ourfcivco.      If  thcrviore  you    io    ik<l   icv'i    tiiofe 
kind  difpolitior*s  towards  ail   other  people,  you    may  b« 
(^2 


(     186     ) 

afTurec!  tiiat  you  are  not  in  that  Rate  of  chanty,  vhlch 
is  the  very  life  and  foul  of  Chrlftian  piety. 

You  knr.vv  how  it  hurtB  yen,  to  be  made  the  jeft  and 
ridicule  of  other  people.;  how  it  grieves  you  to  be  robbed 
of  your  reputation  ;  if  therefore  you  expofe  others  to 
fcorn  and  contempt  in  any  degree  ;  if  it  pleafes  you  to  fee 
or  hear  of  their  frailties  and  infirmities  ;  oi-  if  you  are 
only  loth  to  conceal  their  faults,  you  are  fo  far  from 
loving-  fuch  peoj^le  as  yonrfelf,  that  you  may  be  jullly 
fuppofcd  to  have  as  much  hatred  for  them,  as  you  have 
love  for  yourftlf.  For  fuch  tempers  are  as  truly  the 
proper  fruits  of  hatr»;d,  as  the  contrary  tempers  are  the 
proper  fruits  of  love. 

And  as  it  is  a  certain  fign  that  you  love  yourfelf,  be- 
raufe  you  are  tender  of  every  thing  that  concerns  you  ; 
fo  it  is  as  certain  a  fign  that  you  hate  your  neighbour, 
when  you  are  pleafed  with  any  thing  that  hurts  him. 


CHAP.     XVII. 

Ofihe  necessity  and  benefit  of  intercession^  considered  a^ 
an  exercise  of  imtversal  love.  How  ail  orders  of  men 
Lire  to  intercede  with  God  for  one  another.  Ho%v  such 
intercession  amends  and  reforms  the  heart, 

l.^nr^HAT  interceffion  is  a  great  and  necefTary  part 
JL  of  Chriflian  devotion,  is  very  evident  from 
fcripture. 

The  firft  followers  of  Chriil  feem  to  fupport  all  their 
love,bv'  prayers  fur  cne  another. 

St.  Paul,  wlicti.er  he  writes  to  churches,  or  particu- 
lar perfons,  fhews  that  they  are  the  confiant  fLit)ject  of 
his  prayers. 

Thus  to  the  Philippians,  "  I  thank  my  G.od  upon  eve- 
ry rememberance  of  you  ;  always  in  every  prayer  of  mine 
for  you  all,  making  recjueft  with  joy,"  Hliil.  i.  4,  5. 

His  devotion  had  aifo  the  fame  care  for  particular 
perfons,  as  appears  by  the  following  pafTage.  "  I  thank 
rny  God;  whom  I  ferve  from  my  fore-fathers,  with  a  pure 


(     187     ) 

onfcience,  tliat  v  Ith(»ui  ceafnip^-  1  l'?ve  remeiTibrnnrir 
ther  in  my  prayers  night  and  day,"  2  Tim.  i.  3.  Hovf 
holy  nn  acquaintance  and  friendflii]>  was  tliis,  how  wor- 
thy of  perl'ons  that  were  raifed  above  the  woild,  and  re-- 
lat!"d  to  one  another,  as  new  members  oi':i  kingdom  of 
heaven  I 

2.  ApoRlfs  and  great  faints  did  not  onlv  thus  hiefs 
particular  churches,  and  private  perfons  ;  but  they  thrm- 
fclves  alio  received  graces  from  God  by  the  prayers  of 
others.  Thus  faith  St.  Paul  to  the  Corinthinis,  **  Ynu 
alfo  helping  together  by  prayer  for  us,  that  for  tlie  gift 
bellowed  upon  us  by  the  neans  of  many  perfons,  thanks 
may  be  given  by  many  on  our  behalf,"  2  Cor.  i.  1  1. 

This  was  the  ancient  friendfliip  of  ChriRians,  uniting 
and  ceraenting  their  hearts,  not  by  worldly  conhdera- 
tions,  or  human  patTions,  but  by  the  mutual  conjmuni- 
cation  of  fpiritual  bleflings,  by  prayers  and  thanki'ji- 
vings  to  God  for  one  another. 

It  was  this  holy  interceffion  that  raifed  ChriHians  to 
fuch  a  ftate  of  mutual  love,  as  far  exceeded  all  that  had 
been  admired  in  human  friendfhip.  And  when  the 
fame  fpirit  of  interceffion  is  again  in  the  world,  this 
holy  friendfliip  will  be  again  in  fafliion,  and  ChriRians 
^vill  be  again  the  wonder  of  the  world,  for  that  exceed- 
ing love  which  they  bear  to  one  another. 

For  a  frequent  interceffion  with  God,  earneRly  befcech- 
ing  him  to  forgive  the  fins  of  all  mankind,  to  bids  them 
with  his  providence,  enlighten  them  with  his  Spirit 
and  bring  them  to  everlalling  happinefs,  is  the  divineft 
exercife  that  the  heart  of  man  can  be  engaged  in. 

3.  Be  daily  therefore  on  your  knees,  in  a  folemn, 
deliberate  performance  of  this  devotion,  praying  for 
©thers  with  fuch  length,  importunity,  and  earnftftnefs,  as. 
you  ufe  for  yourfclf ;  and  you  -sv ill -find  all  little,  ill-na- 
tured paflions  die  away  ;  and  your  heart  uill  delight  m 
the  common  happinefs  of  others,  as  you  ufed  only  to  de- 
light in  your  own. 

For  it  is  hardly  poffible  for  you  to  befeech  God  to 
make  any  one  happy  in  his  glory  to  all  eternity,  and 
y-t  be  troubled  to  fee  him  enjoy  the  much  fmallcr  gifts 
of  God  in  this  life. 


^•<* 


C      188     ) 

But  the  grenteR  benefits  of  interceflion  are  then  re- 
ceived, when  it  defceiicis  to  Uich  particular  inflances  as 
our  flate  and  condition  in  life  more  particularly  require 
of  us. 

Though  we  are  to  tte?.t  all  mankind  as  neighbours  and 
brcthien.  as  occafjon  oir^rs  ;  yet  as  we  can  only  live  in 
the  aftnal  Tociety  of  a  few,  and  arc  more  particularly 
related  to  fome  tlian  others  ;  lb  v/hen  our  interceiTioii 
is  made  an  exercife  of  love  and  care  for  thofe  amongft 
Avhom  our  lot  is  fallen,  or  who  belong  to  us  in  a  nearer 
relation,  it  then  becomes  the  greateft  benefit  to  our- 
felves. 

If  therefore  you  (liould  always  alter  your  intercefli- 
ons,  according  as  the  needs  of  your  neighbours  or  ac- 
quaintance require  ;  befeeching  God  to  deliver  them 
from  fuch  or  fuch  particular  evils,  or  to  grant  them, 
this  or  that  particular  gift,  or  blefTing  ;  fuch  intereef- 
fions,  beiides  the  great  charity  of  them,  would  have  a 
mi^-htv  effedl  upon  your  own  hejirt, 

4.  T:'iis  would  make  it  pleafant  to  you  to  be  courte- 
ous, civil,  and  condeicending  to  all  about  you,  and  make 
you  unable  to  fay  or  do  a  rude  or  hard  thing  to  thole 
for  whom  you  had  ufed  yourfelf  to  be  fo  kind  and  com- 
paffionate  in  your  prayers. 

*  For  there  is  nothing  that  makes  us  love  a  man  Co 
much,  as  praying  for  him  ;  and  when  you  can  once  do 
this  fmcerely  for  any  man,  you  have  fitted  your  foul 
for  the  performance  of  every  thing  that  is  kind  and  ci- 
vil towards  him.  l^his  wiii  fill  your  heart  with  a  gen- 
erodty  aid  tendcrnefs,  that  will  give  you  a  better  and 
fweet-r  behaviour,  than  any  thing  that  is  called  fine 
breeding  and  good  manners. 

By  confidenng  yourfelf  as  an  advocate  with  God  for 
your  n.-ighbonrs  and  acquaintance,  you  would  never 
find  »t  bard  to  be  at  peace  with  them  yourfelf.  It 
wn  ild.  be  cafy  to  you  to  bear  with,  and  forgive  thi)fe, 
for  whom  you  particularly  implored  the  dlvme  mercy 
and  iargivenefs. 

Suc.i  uiayers  as  thefe  amongfl  neighbours  and  acquaint- 
ance, v^ould  uriite  thciii  to  one  an  ^i:  per  i":  \c  Ib-.^gefl: 
bonds  of  love  and  tendernefs.     It  would  teach  them  to 


(     139     ) 

ccnnJev  rnc  niiotber  in  a  lilghc.r  ftate,  as  Tneirbrrs  o{ 
a  rpiritual  fociety,  tliat  are  crfMttd  tor  the  cnjc  yrr.cnt  of 
the  conur.rn  blcffir.gs  of  God  and  fellow  heirs  of  the 
fame  glow. 

And  by  beinr^  tliiis  dcfirous  that  every  one  fliould 
have  ihelr  full  flvare  of  the  fatours  of  God,  they  wor.ld 
be  glad  to  fee  one  unothtr  hfippy  in  the  litde  enjoy* 
niento  of  this  life. 

5.  *  Oiiranius  is  a  holy  priefl,  full  of  the  f[*irlt  of  the. 
gcipel,  -wjitching,  laboiirii\g',  and  prayin;^  for  a  porr 
ct)untry  village.  Every  foul  in  it  ir,  as  dear  to  him  ?.s 
himielf ;  and  he  loves  thorn  all,  as  he  lov-s  himlflf, 
becaufe  he  pravs  for  tli(  ra  all,  as  often  as  he  prays  for 
himlVlf, 

If  his  whole  life  is  one  continm!  exercife  of  great 
zenl  and  labour,  hi^rdly  .ever  fatisfied  with  any  degrees 
of  care  and  watchfiilnefs^  it  is  becaufe  he  has  learntd 
th.e  great  value  of  fouls,  by  fo  often  appearing  before 
God.   as  an  intoicc  fTor  for  th^ni. 

He  never  thir.ks  he  can  love  or  do  enough  for  his 
fl^ck  ;  hecaiifc  he  never  conf:ders  them  in  ariy  other 
view,  than  as  fo  many  pesfons,  that,  by  receiving  the 
gifis  aral  graces  of  God,  are  to  become  his  hope,  his 
joy.  and  h.is  crovv'u  of  rejoicing. 

He  goes  about  bib  parifli,  and  viHts  every  body  in 
it  ;  but  vifits  in  the  fame  fpirit  of  piety  that  he  preaches 
to  them  :  he  vi'ks  them  to  encourage  their  virtues,  to 
j.'fli!!  them  with  his  advice,  to  difcover  their  manner  of 
life,  and  to  know  the  fldtc  of  their  fouls,  that  he  may 
intercede  with  God  for  them,  according  to  their  partic- 
ular necefilties. 

6.  When  Guranius  firrt  entered  into  holy  orders,  he 
had  a  haugluinefs  in  liis  ten^per,  a  great  contempt  for  all 
fcollOi  and  unreafcnallc  people  :  but  he  has  prayed  away 
this  fpirit,  and  has  now  the  greateft  tendemefs  for  the 
loofl:  obRinste  Gnncrs  ;  becaufe  he  is  always  hoping  tlrat 
God  will  fooner  or  later  hear  thofe  prayers  th^it  he  makes 
for  their  repentance. 

The  rudenefs,  ill-nature,  orperverfe  behaviour  of  any 
of  his  flctk,  vftd  at  full  to  betray  liim  into  ijrpatience  j 


(     ISO     > 

But/it  now  raife?  no  other  paflion  in  him,  tliTin  a  clefir'e 
of  being  upon  liis  kneet  in  prayer  to  God  for  them. 

Thus  have  hii  prsyers  for  others  altered  and  aiuendcd 
the  ftate  of  his  own  heart. 

It  would  delight  yon  to  fee  with  what  fpirit  he  con- 
v^rfes,  with  what  tendernefs  he  reproves,  with  v.'hat  af- 
fecflion  he  exhorts,  and  v/ith  what  vigf)ur  lie  preaches  ; 
and  it  is  all  owing  to  this,  becaufe  he  reproves,  ex- 
horts, and  preaches  to  thofe,  for  whom  he  firft  prays  to 
God. 

This  devotion  foftens  his  heart,  enlightens  his  mind, 
fweetens  his  temper,  and  makes  every  thing  that  comeS 
from  him,  inftnictive,  amiable,  and   affetSling. 

7.  At  his  firit  coming  to  this  little  village,  it  was 
as  difagreeable  to  him  as  a  prifon,  and  every  day  feemed 
too  tedious  to  be  endured  in  fo  retired  a  place.  He 
thought  his  parifh  was  too  full  of  poor  and  mean  people, 
that  were  none  of  them  fit  for  tUe  converfation  of  a 
gentleman. 

This  7).u  him  i-pon  a  clofe  application  to  his  Hudies. 
He  kept  much  at  home,  wrote  notes  upon  Homer  and 
Plautus,  and  fometimes  thought  it  hard  to  be  called  to 
pray  by  any  poor  body,  when  lie  was  jull  in  the  midfl 
of  one  of  Homer'r:  battles. 

This  wns  hi^,  polite,  or  1  may  ratlier  fay,  poor,  ignorant 
tuniof  mip.d.  before  devotion  had  got  the  goveninient 
of  his  heart. 

But  now  his  days  are  fo  far  from  being  tedious,  or 
jiis  p  .rifh  too  great  :;  retirement  that  he  only  wants 
more  time  to  do  tluit  variety  of  g<>(xl  which  h.is  full 
thirds  i'fter.  'I'he  folitude  of  his  little  parilli  is  bccomfr^ 
miAttrr  of  gre^t  comfort  to  him,  becaufe  lie  hfp'^o  that 
God  has  placed  him  and  his  flock  there,  to  make  it 
their  way  to  heaven. 

He  can  now  not  only  converfe  with-,  but  glaclly  wait 
upon  the  poorc-rt  kind  of  people.  K<-  is  now  1;  ily 
watching  <rver  the  weak,  htjmblin,!^  himfclt  ir.  perv.ife, 
rude,  igiioraiit  people,  wherever  he  can  find  them  ;  and 
is  fij  fir  from  defiring  to  be  cor.\!i.dered.  as  a  gentlenian, 
that  he  dcfires  to  be  ukd  as  the  fervant  of  all  ;  and  in 


the  fpirit  of  his  L»rd  and  IVIuOer  {rircls  hiirfelf,  and  Ik 
glnd  to  kneel  down  and  wiifli  aii)   ol"  their  feet. 

He  now  thinks  the  pcorefl  creature  in  hi^  pnrifli  prr  d 
enough,  and  yrc«t  tnougli  to  dtierve  the  \,i>,]  hiefl  at- 
tendances, the  kinCvH  fr.cndlhips,  the  tcndertft  <  llices, 
he  can  pcfTibly  fhew  them. 

He  is  fo  far  now  from  venting  agreerible  cmpsry, 
that  he  thinks  th*;re  is  no  betcei  crnveifaticn  in  the 
^vorld,  thail  to  be  talkiiig  a\  ith  poor  ai.d  mean  people 
4d)out  tiic  kingdom  of  heaven. 

All  tliefc  noble  thoiigtits  and  divine  f  rtiments  are 
the  effcdls  of  his  great  devotion  ;  he  prefcnts  t\eiy  onis 
fo  often  before  God  in  his  pi  ayers.,  that  he  never  thinks 
he  can  efteera^  or  fervc  thofe  enoagh,  for  whom  he  im- 
plores fo  many  mercies  from  V>cd. 

8.  Ouranius  is  mightily  affeAed  with  this  p^fTage  of 
holy  fcripture.  The  effectual,  fervent  prayer  cf  a  ri^h" 
t60us  man  availeth  ynuch.  Jam.  v.  16. 

This  makes  him  prattife  all  the  arts  of  holy  living, 
and  afpire  after  every  inltance  of  piety,  that  his  pray- 
ers for  his  flock  may  have  their  full  force,  and  avail 
much  with  God. 

For  this  reafon,  he  has  fold  a  fmail  eftate  that  he 
had,  and  has  ercct?d  a  charitable  retirement  for  ancient, 
poor  people,  to  live  in  prayer  and  piety:  that  his  pray- 
ers being  afiifted  by  futii  good  works,  may  pierce  the 
clouds,  and  bring  down  bkliings  upon  thofe  fouls  com- 
mitted to  his  care. 

9.  Ouranius  reads  how  God  himfelf  faid  unto  Abiiti- 
elech,  concerning  Abraham  ;  '*  He  is  a  prophet ;  he.  fliall. 
pray  for  thee,  and  thou  Ihalt  live,"   Gen.  xx.  7. 

And  again,  how  he  faid  of  Jt-b,  ''  And  my  fervant  Jcb 
fliall  prny  for  you  ;   for  him  w  ill  I  accept,"  Job  xlii.   8. 

From  thefe  puflTages  Ouranius  juft'y  concludes, _  that 
the  prayers  of  men  eminent  for  holinefs,  have  nn  cxtra- 
ordintay  power  with  God;  that  ht  grants  to  other  pec^- 
ple  fuch  blellings,  through  their  prayers,  as  would  not 
be  granted  to  men  of  leis  piety.  Thia  make  Ouranius 
exceeding  ftudious  cf  Chrillian  perfedion,  fearching- 
i^ftcr  every  grace  and  hjoly  temper,  fearful  of  every  er- 


(     192     ) 

ror  fina  defe£l  In  his  life,  lefl  his  prayers  for  his  flock 
fliOLild  be  lefs  availing  with  God. 

Tnis  makis  him  careful  of  every  temper  of  his  heart, 
give  alms  of  all  that  he  hath,  watch,  and  fall,  and  mor- 
tify, and  live  according  to  the  flridVeft  rules  of  temper- 
ance, meeknefs  and  humility,  that  he  may  be  in  fome  de- 
gree like  an  Abtahani,  or  a  J.jb,  in  his  p;^rilh,  and 
riake  fuch  prayers  for  them  as  God  will  hear  and  ac- 
cept. 

Thcfe  are  the  happy  eff-As  which  a  devout  intercefii- 
on  halh  produced  in  the  life  of  Ouianius. 

And  if  other  people,  in  their  ieveral  {laticn-^.  were 
to  imitate  his  example,  in  fuch  a  manner  asfuitcr*  t'.r.r 
particular  ilate  of  life,  they  vould  certainly  tiiui  the 
fame  happy  effedls  from  it. 

10.  *  If  maflers,  for  iuRar.ce,  were  to  remember  tiieir 
fef /ants  in  their  prayers,  befeeching  God  to  blei^s  them, 
and  fuiting  their  .petitions  to  the  particular  wants  of 
their  fervants  ;  letting  no  day  pais,  without  a  full  p«r- 
formawce  of  this  part  of  devotion  ;  the  benefit  would  be 
as  great  to  thcmfelves.  as  to  their  fervants. 

No  way  fo  likely  as  this,  to  infpire  them  with  a  tiuc 
fenfe  of  that  power  which  they  have  in  their  hands,  to 
make  them  dt-hght  in  doing  good,  and  bcccnie  exem- 
plary in  all  the  parts  of  a  wife  and  good  mafter, 

*  The  prefentiiig  their  fervants  fo  often  before  God, 
as  equally  related  to  God,  and  entitled  to  the  fame  hea- 
ven as  thentfclves,  would  inchne  them  to  treat  them 
not  only  with  fuch  humanity  as  became  fellow-creatures, 
but  v^ith  fuch  tendernefs,  care,  and  generohty,  as  became 
fellow-heirs  of  the  fame  gh  ry.  This  devotion  would 
make  raaikrs  inclined  to  e.ery  thing  that  was  good  to- 
v/ards  their  fervants  ;  be  watchful  of  their  behaviour, 
and  as  leady  to  require  of  them  an  exj-.ct  obfervai.ce  of 
the  duties  of  chnltianity,  as  of  the  duties  of  their  fer- 
vicc.    . 

*  This  would  teach  them  to  confider  their  fervants 
as  God's  fervants,  to  defire  their  perfedlion,  to  do  no- 
thing before  them  that  might  conupc  their  minds,  to 
impofe  no  bufmefs  upon  them  that  fhculd  leilen  their 
fcnfe  of  religion,  or  hinder  th«m  from  their  full  Ihure 


f     193     ) 

•f  devotion,  both  public  and  private.  TliI^  ■?••>'»")? 
for  them  would  make  them  as  glad  to  fee  their  Icrvants 
eminent  in  piety  as  th.'^mielves,  and  contrive  that  th.'f 
jBiould  have  all  opportunities  and  encouragements,  botk 
to  know  and  perforra  all  the  duties  of  the  ChriQian  lifi*. 

1  I.  How  natural  would  it  he  for  fuch  a  mailer,  t« 
perform  every  pan  of  family  dcrotion  ;  to  have  conflant 
prayers  ;  to  excufe  no  one's  abfence  from  them  ;  to  have 
the  fcriptures  and  books  of  piety  often  read  anior.^^  bis 
Servants  ;  to  take  all  opport;|uiitics  of  inftrucling  them, 
of  railing  their  minds  to  God,  and  teaching  them  to  do 
^11  their  bufinefs  as  a  fervice  to  God,  and  upon  the 
hopes  and  expeftations  of  another  life  ? 

*  How  natural  would  it  be  for  fuch  a  one  to  pity 
their  weaknefs  and  ignorance,  to  bear  with  the  dulnefs 
of  "their  underllandings,  or  the  perverfenefs  of  their  tem- 
pers ;  to  reprove  them  Vi^ilh  tcndernefo,  exhort  them 
■with  afFedlion,  as  hoping  that  God  would  hear  hi»  prayr. 
ers  for  them  ? 

How  impoflible  would  it  be  for  a  mafler,  that  thus 
interceded  with  God  for  his  fervants,  to  ule  any  unkind 
thieatenings  towards  them,  to  damn  and  curfe  them  as 
dogs  and  icoundrels^  and  treat  them  only  as  dregs  of  the 
creation  ? 

This  devotion  would  give  them  another  fpirit,  and 
make  them  confider  how  to  make  proper  returns  of  care, 
kindntfs,  and  protedlion  to  thole  who  had  fprnt  their 
ftrength  and  time  in  fervice  anJ  attendance  upon  them. 

12.  Now  ifgendemcti  think  it  too  low  an  employment 
to  exeicife  fuch  a  devotion  as  tl'is  for  their  fcrvai)t$  let 
them  confider  how  far  they  are  from  the  ipirit  of  Chrift, 
"ivho  made  himfelf  not  only  an  intcicclTor,  but  a  facri- 
fice  for  the  whole  race  of  linful  niarikind  ? 

I^et  them  conlider  how  niiicrablc  their  greatnefs 
"Would  be,  if  the  Son  of  God  IhuulJ  think  it  as  much 
below  him  to  pray  for  them,  a»  thty  do  to  pr^ay  for  their 
fellow -creatures. 

Let  th'm  conlider  how  far  they  are  from  that  fpijit, 
>vhich  prays  f.)r  its  mort  uiijult  enemies,  if  they  have  not 
ivi  idnels    enough    to  pray  fur  thole,  by    vvhofe    laboUJr^5^ 
anil  fervice  they  live  in  eafe  themfclves# 
R 


(  m  ) 

13.  Again:  if  parents  fliould  thus  make  thnnfelvcs 
adxoiate^  and  inteixefTors  with  God  t\  r  their  children, 
conl^autly  api^lying  to  heaven  in  behalf  ot'thcm,  nothings 
•would  be  more  likely,  not  only  to  bhfs  their  thlldrcn, 
but  alfr)  to  difpofe  tlieir  own  minds  to  the  performance 
of  every  thing  that  was  excellent  and  praile-worthy. 

I  do  not  fuppofe,  but  that  the  generality  of  parents  re» 
member  their  ciiildren  in  their  prayers.  *  But  the  thing 
here  intended,  is  not  a  general  rememberance  of  there, 
but  a  regular  method  of  recommending  all  their  particu- 
lar needs  unto  God  ;  and  <1f  praying  for  every  fuch  par- 
ticular grace  and  virtue  for  them  as  their  ftatc  and  con- 
dition of  life  fiiall  ieem  to  require. 

The  flate  of  parents  is  a  holy  Aate,  in  fome  degree 
like  that  of  the  prieOhocd,  and  calls  upon  them  to  blefs 
their  children  »*ith  their  prayers  and  facrifices  to  God. 
Thus  it  >fcas  that  holy  Job  watched  over,  and  blelTcd  his 
children,  he  "  fanftified  them,  he  rofe  up  early  in  the 
niornlng,  and  offered  bprnt-offcrings,  according  to  the 
number  of  them  all,*'  Job.  i.  5. 

If  parents  therefore,  confidcriiig  themfclves  in  this 
light,  fhould  be  daily  calling  upon  God  in  a  folemn,  de- 
liberate manner,  altering  and  extending  their  intercelTions 
as  the  (\ate  and  growth  of  their  children  required,  lucti 
devotion  would  have  a  mighty  influence  upon  the  reft' 
of  their  lives  ;  it  would  make  them  very  circumfpecfl  iti 
the  government  of  themftlves  ;  prudent  and  carclul  of 
eveiy  thing  they  fiiid  or  did,  Icfl  their  example  fliould 
hinder  that  which  they  fo  conflantly  defired  in  their 
prayers. 

14.  If  a  father  was  daily  making- particular  prayers 
to  God,  that  he  would  pleafe  to  mlpirc  his  children 
vith  true  piety,  great  humility  and  ftrift  temperance,  what; 
could  be  more  likely  to  make  the  father  himfelf  be- 
come exemplary  in  thefe  virtues  ?  How  naturally  would 
he  grow  afliamed  of  wanting  fuch  virtues,  as  he  thought 
neceffary  for  his  children  ?  So  that  his  prayers  for  their 
piety,  would  be  a  certain  nieans  of  exalting  his  own. 

If  a  father  thus  confidcred  himfelf  as  an  interceffor 
■with  God  for  his  children,  to  blefs  thfm  with  his  piay» 
drifr,  how  would  fuck  thought*  iflakc  hiin   avoid  every 


(  1^--  ) 

thin,^  thnt  vf^s  clir|-^learin:(  to  God,   h'fl  whrn  h-  pr-^yCil 
for  hit  clill.!rcn,   God  fhould  rcj /(ft  h'u  p:ayi-r;>  ? 

•  How  tenderly,  how  rt-il^ioufly  would  I'lK  h  a  f:itli-r 
conyerie  with  liis  children,  wlioni  he  roi-i:iJrreJ  as  l:'.i 
little  fpiritual  flock,  whofc  virtues  he  was  to  form  bf 
his  example,  encourage  hy  his  authority,  nomifli  by  hiy 
counffd,  and  jj-ofper  by  his  prayers  to  God  for  tliein  ? 

*  How  fearful  would  he  be  of  ail  unjuft  w?.ys  of  raU 
fin;j  their  fortune,  of  brin;^in'j^  them  up  in  pride  aiid  in- 
dul^'-enr.e,  or  of  milking  the- m  too  fond  of  the  world,  Uii 
ht  Oriuld  thereby  render  them  iticr.iable  of  t!)ofe  jjraccs 
which  lie  wjis  f)  often  bfrfeeciiing  God  to  grant  them  ? 

\S.  LaQIy,  If  all  people,  when  they  frel  the  firft  ap- 
proiches  of  refcniment,  envy,  or  contempt,  towaid.5  o- 
thers  ;  or  if  in  all  little  difa^reernents  and  niilundcrlUnd- 
ings  whatever,  they  fliould,  InRead  of  induV^ing  theif 
mindi  with  little,  low  refl':  £li')n?,  have  riconrl-;  to  a  mor? 
particular  intercefTion  w:th  God,  for  fuchperfons  as  had 
raifed  their  envy,  refentment,  or  difcontent  :  this  would 
hi  a  certain  way  to  prevent  the  grovvth  of  idl  unchari- 
table tempers. 

If  you  were  always  to  form  your  pra.yer  at  that  time 
to  the  greatcft  decree  of  contrariety  to  that  temper  which 
you  was  then  in,  it  would  be  an  excellent  means  of 
mending  your  keait. 

As  for  inftancc  ;  when  at  any  time  you  find  in  your 
heart  motions  of  envy  towards  any  perfon,  whether  on 
account  of  his  riches,  power,  reputation,  learning,  or  P.d- 
vancem:jnt,  if  you  fliould  immediately  pray  to  God  to 
bieis  and  pr^fper  him  in  that  very  thing  which  raifed 
y')ur  envy  ;  if  you  fhould  repeat  your  petitions  in  ths 
ilror.gert  terms,  befeechmg  God  to  grant  him  ?ill  the  hap- 
pine'i's  from  the  enjoyment  of  it  that  can  polTioly  be  re- 
ceived, y3u  would  foon  find  it  to  be  the  bell  antidote  in 
the  world  to  expel   the  venom  of  that  painon. 

*  Again  :  If  in  any  little  difference  or  mifundcrfland- 
ings  thit  you  happened  to  have  at  any  time  with  a  rela- 
tion, a  neighbour,  or  any  oneelfc,  you  fiiould  then  pray 
for  thrm  in  a  more  extraordinary  manner  th.m  you  ever 
did    b-f)re,    befeeching    God   tv)  give  them  every  grace 


(    ISS    ) 

^nd  blcHing  y©u  can  think  of,  yon  would  take  the  fpee- 
dielt  method  of  reconciling  >:]}  diffVrcnces,  and  clearii>g 
up  all  miiunderftandings.  You  would  then  think  no- 
thiiK.;^  too  great  to  be  forgiven.  H^y  for  no  condcfcen- 
fions,  need  no  mediation  of  a  third  pcrfon,  but  be  glad 
to  tcfiify  your  love  rnd  good-will  to  him,  -vvho  had  fo 
high  a  plzice  In  your  fee  ret  prayers.  ■ 

I'his  would  remove  all  peevifli  paflions,  foften  your 
heart  into  the  mort  tender  condefcenfions,  and  be  the 
bcil  arbitrator  of  all  d.tTerences  that  happened  betwixt 
you  and  any  of  your  acquaintance. 

16.  Hence  we  may  alio  learn  the  odious  nature  of  all 
fptte,  hatred,  contempt,  and  angry  pafiions.  They  aie 
not  to  be  confidered  as  defedls  in  good  nature,  not  as  fail- 
ings in  civility  or  good-breeding,  butasfuch  bafetempers 
as  are  entirely  inconfi (lent  with  the  charity  of  intercellion. 

You  think  It  a  fmall  matter  to  be  pecvlfli  or  ill-natu- 
red to  fuch  or  fuch  a  man  ;  but  you  (hould  confider, 
whether  it  be  a  fmall  matter  to  do  that  v/hich  you  could 
not  do,  if  you  had  but  fo  much  charity  as  to  be  able 
to  recommend  him  to  God  in  your  prayers. 

You  think  It  a  fmall  matter  to  ridicule  one  man,  and 
defpife  another  ;  but  you  fnould  confider,  whether.it  be 
a  fm3ll  matter  to  want  that  charity  towards  theie  peo- 
ple, v.hich  Ghriftians  are  not  allovved  to  want  towards 
their  moft  inveterate  enemies. 

For,  be  but  as  chritable  to  thefe  men,  do  but  blefs 
and  pray  for  them,  as  you  are  obliged  to  blefs  and  pray 
for  your  enemies,  and  then  you  will  find  that  you  have 
charity  enou,j,h,  to  make  it  impofTible  for  you  to  treat 
them  with  any  degree  of  fcorn  or  contempr. 

For  you  cannot  poiTibly  deipife  and  ridicule  that  man, 
•whom  yt  ur  private  p.-aycis  vccoicmend  to  the  love  and 
favour  ot  God. 

\\  hen  you  defpife  and  ridicule  a  man,  it  is  with  no 
othtr  end,  but  to  make  him  ridiculous  and  contemptible 
in  the  eyes  <  f  other  men.  How  theY-c-lcre  can  it  be  poU 
fible  tor  you  fincercly  to  befecch  God  to. blefs  that  m.arv 
with  the  honour  of  Ins  love  and  favour,  whom  ycu.de.- 
iire  me-ii  to  treat  as  worthy  of  their  contempt  ? 


(     197     ) 

flould  you  out  of  love  to  a  ncigbi)oiir,  dcfire  your 
prince  to  honour  him  with  his  efttem  aiid  favour,  and 
yet  at  the  lame  time  expofe  him  to  the  fcorn  and  deri- 
fion  of  your  own  lervawts  ? 

Yet  this  is  as  poflible,  as  to  expofe  that  man  to  the 
fcorn  and  contempt  of  your  fi-llow-creatures,  whom  you 
recommend  to  the  favour  of  God  in  your  fccret  piayers. 

17.  You  cannot  defpife  a  brother,  without  defpifing 
liim  that  Itands  in  a  hii^h  relation  to  God,  to  his  fen  Je- 
fus  Chrill:,  and  to  the  holy   Trinity. 

You  would  certainly  think  it  a  mighty  Impiety  to 
treat  a  writing  with  contempt,  that  had  been  written 
by  the  finger  of  God  ;  and  can  you  think  it  a  lefs  im- 
piety to  contemn  a  broth-^r,  who  is  not  only  the  work* 
man  Chip,  but  the  image  of  God  ? 

You  would  juftly  think  it  great  prophanencfs,  to 
•ontenin  and  trample  upon  an  altar,  becaufe  it  was  ap- 
propriated to  holy  ufes,  and  had  had  the  body  of  Chrift 
fo  often  placed  upon  it  ;  and  can  you  fuppofe  it  to  be 
lefs  prophanenefs  to  fcorn  and  trample  upow  a  brother, 
who  fo  belongs  to  God,  that  his  very  body  is  the  temple 
•f  the  Hdy  Ghost,  1  Cor.  vi.    15. 

18.  *  But  to  return  ;  interceffion  is  not  only  the  bcft 
arbitrator  of  all  differences,  the  bed  promoter  of  true 
fi'iendfhip,  the  btft  cure  and  prefervative  againft  all  un- 
kind tempers,  all  angry  and  haughty  paifjons,  but  is 
alfo  of  great  ufe  to  difcover  to  us  the  true  (late  of  ouf 
own  hearts. 

There  are  many  tempers  which  we  think  lawful  and 
innocent,  which  we  never  fupcA  of  any  harm  ;  which  if 
they  were  to  he  tried  by  this  drvotion,  would  foon  fnew 
us  how  we  have  deceived  ourfelves. 

*  Surfurrus  is  a  pious,  tempc-rate  man,  remarkable 
for  abundance  of  excellent  qualities.  No  one  more  Cini- 
flant  at  the  fervic^  of  the  church.  His  thnrity  is  fo 
great  that  he  almofl  flarvcs  himlVlf,  to  be  able  to  give 
greater  alms  to  the  poor. 

.9.  Yet  Surfunus  had  a  prodigious  falling,  along  with 
thefc  threat  viriues. 

H-  haJ  a  mighcy  inclinati'^n  to  hear  and  difcover  nil 
the  defecls  and  infirmities  c^f  all  about  him.      You  vy«^ 


(      108     ) 

wekoTwc  to  trll  him  any  thing  of  any  body,  proviilcd 
that  vou  did  not  do  it  in  tlic  (Vile  of  an  enemy.  He  new 
Ter  difliked  an  evil  Ip^aker,  but  when  his  lan^'-uagc  was 
roiigli  and  p.iflionate.  If  you  would  hut  whifper  any 
thing  gently,  though  it  was  ever  fo  bad,  Surfunus  was 
ready  to  receive  it. 

When  he  vifits,  you  generally  hear  him  relating, 
how  forry  he  is  for  the  failings  of  fuch  a  neighbour. 
He  is  always  letting  you  know,  how  tender  he  is  of  the 
reputation  of  his  neighbour  ;  how  loth  to  fay  that  which 
he  is  forced  to  fjiy  ;  aiid  how  gladly  he  would  conceal 
it,   if  it  could  be  concealed. 

Surfurrus  had  fuch  a  tender,  coinpafTionate  manner 
of  relating  thln^^'s  the  nioft  prejudicial  to  his  neighbour, 
that  he  even  fceined,  both  to  himiVlf  and  others,  to  be 
cxercifmg  a  Chriflian  charity  at  the  fame  time  that  he 
>vas  indulging  a  whifpeiing,  evil  fpeaking  temper. 

Surfurrus  once  whifpered  to  aparticular  fiiendin  great 
fecrefy,  fomething  too  bad  to  be  fpoken  of  publicly. 
He  ended  with  faying,  how  glad  he  was,  that  it  had 
not  yet  took  Avind,  and  that  he  had  fome  hopes  it  might 
iiot  be  true,  though  the  fui'picions  were  very  flrong. 
His  friend  made  him  this  reply  : 

You  fay,  Surfurrus,  that  you  are  glad  it  has  not  yet 
taVtn  wind  ;  and  that  you  have  fome  hopes  it  may  not 
prove  true.  Go  home  therefore  to  your  clofet,  and  pray 
to  God  for  this  man,  in  fuch  a  manner  and  with  inch 
earneltnefs,  as  you  would  pray  for  yourfelf  on  the  like 
coca fi on. 

Bcfeech  God  to  interpofe  in  his  favour,  to  fave  him 
from  falfe  accufers,  and  bring  all  ihofe  to  fhame,  who, 
by  uncharitable  whifpers,' and  fccret  flories,  wourdhim, 
like  thoi\'  that  ftab  in  the  daik.  And  vhen  ycu  have 
ir.ade  vhis  j-raycr,  then  you  nay  if  yen  pkaft,  go  tell 
the  fame  (ecrct  to  fome  oihcr  friend,  that  you  have  told 
to  me. 

20.  Surfurrus  was  cxcfedingly  riffc  £\cd  with  this  re- 
buke, and  felt  the  force  t  f  it  upi-n  his  confcicncc  in  as 
lively  a  manner,  as  if  he  had  fcen  the  books  opened  at 
the  day  of  judgment. 


(     199     ) 

All  other  an^uinents  niij;ht  have  been  rcHned  ;  but  it 
was  impoiliblc  for  Sm  fui  rus  ( iihfi  to  rcjtrdl,  or  ft, How 
lliis  advicr,  witb.out  being  ec;u;tlly  fclt'-condcmncd  in 
liie  hightrfl  degree. 

From  tb:u  time  to  this,  he  has  conflantly  iiftd  him- 
felt'  to  this  method  of  iiiterceffion  ;  and  his  heart  is  fo 
entirely  char.ged  by  it,  that  lie  can  now  no  more  pri- 
vately whifper  any  thing  to  the  prejudice  of  another, 
than  he  can  openly  pray  to  God  to  do  people  hurt. 

Whifperings  and  evil-fpcakings  now  hurt  his  ears, 
like  oaths  and  ciirfes  ;  and  he  has  appointed  one  djiy 
in  the  week,  to  be  a  day  of  penance  as  long  as  he  lives, 
to  humble  himfelf  before  God,  in  the  forrowful  conftf- 
fion  of  his  former  guilt. 

It  ma^y  be  v/ell  wondered,  how  a  man  of  fo  much  pi- 
ety  as  Surl'urrus,  couid  be  fo  deceived  Iw  himfelf,  as  to 
Jive  in  fuch  a  (Ute  of  fcandal  and  evil  fpeaking,  without 
iufpectinp:  hinifrlf  to  be  guil:y  of  it.  But  it- was  tiie 
tenderiiels  aiid  fetrning  compalfion,  with  which  he  heard 
and  related  every  thing,  that  deceived  both  hinifelfand 
oJ  eis. 

Tliis  was  a  falfenefs  of  heart,  v/hich  was  fully  dlfcc- 
\ered  by  the  true  charity  of  intercefiion. 

And  Ji  people  of  virtue,  wlio  think  as  little  harm  of 
themitlvcs,  as  Surfurrus  did,  were  often  to  try  their  f^ji- 
rit  by  I'uch  an  intticefrion,  they  would  often  find  thc.*.- 
felves  to  be  luch,  as  they  leaft  of  all  fufpe(f>wcd. 


CHAP.     XVIII. 

Eeccrnmending  devotion  at  three  o'clock^  celled  in  scrip' 
ture  the  ninth  lumr  of  the  day.  The  subject  (f  prayer 
at  this  hou*-  maj  be  resignation  to  the  divine  piea:^ure» 
'Iht  nature  and  duty  of  conformity  to  the  'umII  of  God 
in  all  our  actions  and  designs, 

1.  *''~|"^KERE  is  nothing  wife,   or  hr>ly,  or  juf>.   but 
X.     the    great    will    of  God.      This    is  ai    Oridtly 
true,  a6  chat  nothing  is  iufinite  and  eternal  but  God. 


(     200     ) 

*  No  belpgs  therefore,  whether  In  heavfii  or  ou 
earth,  car.  be  wife,  or  holy,  or  juft,  but  fo  far  as  they 
conform  to  this  will  of  God.  It  is  conformity  to  this 
will,  that  gives  virtue  and  perfedion  to  the  highelt  fer- 
vices  ot  angels  in  heaven  ;  and  it  is  conformity  to  th« 
fame  will,  that  maker,  the  ordinary  aftions  of  men  on 
earth  become  an  acceptable  fervice  nnto  Gcd. 

*  The  whole  nature  of  virtue  confifts  in  conforming 
and  the  whole  nature  of  vice  in  declining  from  the  wi]| 
ot  tTod.  All  God's  creatures  are  created  to  fulfil  his 
vnll  ;  the  fun  and  moon  obey  his  will  by  the  iieceflitv 
cf  their  nature  ;  angels  conform  to  his  will  by  the  per- 
feaion  of  theiniature  :  if  therefore  vou  would  fhe^r 
yourfelf  not  to  be  a  rebel  and  apoAate  from  the  order  of 
the    creation,  you   muft  aa  like  beings  both  above  awd 

.  below  you  ;  it  muR  be  the  great  defire  of  your  fou], 
that  God's  will  may  be  done  by  you  on  earth,  as  it  k 
done  m  heaven.  It  mud  be  the  fettled  purpofe  of  your 
Jieart,  to  will  nothing,  defi-n  nothing,  do  nothing,  but 
fo  far  as  you  have  reafon  to  believe  it  is  the  will  of  God 
2.  'Tis  as  necefTary  to  think  thus  cf  God  and  your- 
felf, as  to  think  that  you  have  any  dependance  upon 
him.  And  it  is  as  great  a  rebellion  againft  God,  to 
think  that  your  will  may  'ever  differ  from  his,  as  to 
think  that  you  have  not  received  the  power  of  willing- 
from  him.  * 

You  arc  therefore  to  confider  yourfrlf  as  a  bein? 
that  has  no  other  bnTinefs  m  the  world,  but  to  be  that 
which  God  requires  you  to  be  ;  to  have  no  tempers,  no 
rules,  no  defigns  of  your  own,  but  to  fill  fome  place 
and  aa  fome  part  in  firia  conformity,  and  thankful 
reiignation  to  the  divine  pleafure. 

j-}\  }^'^-^^  ^^^^  ^'"^^  ^'^  y''"'*  '''''"^  ''''  at  your  own 
d.lpofal.  is  as  abfurd  as  to  think  that  you  created  your- 
fi'lf.  It  is  as  pliln  that  you  are  thus  God's,  that  you 
thus  belcng  to  him,  and  arc  to  aa  and  fi-ffcr  all  in 
thankful  refi^^nation  to  his  pkafure.  as  that  in  hbu.you 
live,  arid  move,  and  have  your  being, 

3.  *  Rcfign^tion  to  the^'divine  will,  fjgnifies  a  cheer- 
ful approbacion,  and  thankful  aiceptance  of  every  thing 
that   comes  from  God.     It  is  iiot  enough  patiently  to 


(     201      ) 

•iubn)lt,  baf  we  niu'i  thaiikfiiUy  receive,  and  fully  kj-- 
prove  of  fvery  thii:g,  that  by  the  order  of  God's  pro- 
vidence happens  to  us. 

*  For  there  is  no  reafon  why  we  fhniild  be  patient, 
but  what  is  as  flrong  a  reafon  why  we  flmuld  be  thank- 
ful. If  we  were  under  the  hands  of  a  wife  and  good 
phyfician  that  could  not  niiPiake,  or  do  any  thing  to  u$, 
but  what  tended  to  our  beneat  ;  it  would  not  be  enough 
to  be  patient,  and  abftain  from  luuri-uuring  againft  luck 
a  phyfician  ;  it  v/ould  be  as  much  a  breach  of  gratitude, 
not  to  be  thankful  for  what  he  did,  as  it  would  be  to 
nuirrnur  at  him. 

*  Now  this  is  our  true  fiate  with  relation  to  God  ;  wc 
cannot  be  faid  fo  much  as  to  believe  in  him,  unlefs  we 
believe  him  to  be  of  infinite  wirdom.  Every  argument 
thrrefore  for  patience  under  his  difpcfal  of  us,  is  a$ 
ftrong  an  argument  for  thankfulntfs.  Ajid  there  needs 
no  more  to  difpofc  us  to  this  gratitude  towards  God, 
than  a  full  belief  in  him,  thai  he  is  this  being  of  infi- 
nite wifdum,  love,  and  goodnefs. 

D(*  but  fully  affent  to  this  truth,  and  thew  yen  will 
cheerfully  approve  of  every  thing  that  God  has  already 
approved  for  you. 

When  you  are  fatisfied  that  God  does  not  only  do 
that  which  is  wife,  and  good,  but  which  is  the  ctfecl 
of  infinite  wiidom  and  Icve  in  the  care  of  you  ;  it  will 
be  as  neceffary  to  be  pleafed  with  every  thing  which 
God  chufcs  for  you,  as  to  wlfh  ynur.own  happinefs. 

4.  Whenever  therefore  you  find  yourfell  dil'pofed  to 
murn)uring,  at  any  thing  that  is  the  elTedl  of  God's  pro- 
vidence over  you,  you  Uiufl  lock  upon  youi felf  as  deny- 
ing either  the  wlfdom  or  goodnefs  of  God,  For  every 
complaint  fuppcles  this.  You  would  never  complain 
of  your  neighbour,  but  that  you  fuppc  fe  you  can  Ihew 
cither  his  unwife,  unjuft,  or  unkind  behaviour  t;!WV»'ards 
you. 

Now  every  inipatlent  reflexion  under  the  providence 
of  God,  is  the  lame  accuiation  of  God.  A  coiijplaint 
always  fuppofes  ill-ufage. 

Hence  you  may  fee  the  great  nenecelnty  of  tliis  thank- 
ful ilatc  of  iicartj  bccaufe   the  want  of  it  implies  an  ac- 


(     202     ) 

6ufation  of  God's  want  either  of  wlfnom,  or  goodncfs 
in  his  difpofal  of  us.  It  is  not  tht-if foj-e  jniy  high  de- 
gree of  perfcdion,  founded  in  any  uncommon  nic'eiv  of 
thinking,  but  a  plain  principle,  "founded  in  this  plain 
belief,  that  God  is  a  b^ing-  of  infinite  wirdi>m  and  good- 
nef«. 

5.  This  refi^nalion  to  the  divine  Mill,  in'ay  be  con- 
fidered  in  two  rcfpeds  :  fu{\,  as  it  ii:rni(;es  a  thankful 
approbation  of  God's  gen^jral  providence  over  the  world  : 
fecondly,  as  it  ri,?;ntfies  a  thankful  acceptance  of  his  par- 
ticular providence  over  us. 

*  Firfl:,  every  man  is,  by  the  firfl  article  of  his  creed, 
obliged  to  acknowledge  the  wifdom  and  goodnefs  of 
God,  in  his  general  providence  over  the  world.  He 
is  to  believe  that  it  is  the  effea  of  God'o  great  w.f- 
dom  and  goodnefs,  that  the  world  itfclf  w&s  formed  at 
fuch  a  particular  tim:,  and  in  fuch  a  manner;  tliaC 
the  general  order  of  nature,  the  whole  frame  of  things, 
is  contrived  and  formed  in  the  hz{{  ni:inner.  He  is 
to  believe  that  God's  providence  over  Rates  and  king- 
doms, times  and  f^afons,  is  all  for  the  belt:  that  the 
revolutions  of  it.ue,  and  changes  of  empire,  the  rife  and 
fall  of  monarchies,  p?rlecutions,  wars,  famines,  and 
plagues,  are  all  permitted  and  conduced  by  God's  pro- ' 
vidence,  to  ths  general  good  of  man  in  this  ftate  of 
trial. 

A  good  man  is  to  believe  all  this,  with  the  fame  fuK 
nefs  of  affcnt,  as  he  believes  thit  God  ii  in  every  place, 
though  he  neither  fees,  nor  can  comprehend  the  wianner 
cf  his  prefence. 

*  Thii  is  a  noble  magnificence  of  thought,  a  true 
greatnefs  of  mind,  to  be  thus  aftetSlcd  with  God's  gen- 
eral prov':deac-i,  admiring  and  magnifying  his  wifdom 
in  ^dl  things  :  never  murmuring  a:  the  courfe  of  the 
world,  "or  the  f^ite  of  things,  bat  looking  upon  all  arouj)d, 
at  heaven  and  ea.'th,  as  a  pleafed  fpe6lator  ;  and  ado- 
ring that  invifjble  hand,  which  gives  laws  to  all  nioti- 
o  IS,  and  over-rules  all  events  to  ends  fuitable  to  the 
highel^  wifdom  and  goodnefs. 

().  It  is  very  common  for  people  to  allow  thtrnfelves 
great  liberty  in  finding  fault  with  fuch  things,  as  have 
only  God  for  their  caufe* 


(      203     ) 

*  Every  cue  iMrk.';  he  pias  jiiOly  fay.  Vvl-.at  n  wretch- 
ed, abon  inable  tliiDate  l.e  lives  in.  Tl  is  nian  is  ire* 
^iicntly  trlliiig  you,  what  adirmal,  cuilfd  day  it  is,  and 
wliat  iDtnlerablc  lc■.^^(  lis  Wt-  have.  AiKtlirr  thinks  it  is 
hardly  worth  his  vshileto  livf  in  auoild  fo  full  oi" chan- 
ges and  revfiiutiors.  lint  thefe  are  tcinpcis  of  great 
impiety,  and  flu  w  that  religion  has  not  yet  its  ft  at  in 
the  heart. 

It  founds  Indeed  much  better  to  murn^ur  at  the  coiirfe 
of  the  world  than  to  murninr  at  p:o\ideriCe  ;  to  com- 
plain of  the  ftafons  and  weather,  than  to  criiiplaln  of 
God  ;  but  if  theie  have  no  oti.er  caufe  but  G(.d,  it  is 
a  pocr  excufe  to  fay,  that  you  are  only  angry  at  tlx 
things,  but  not  at  the,  caufe  find  dire<f\cr  of  ihem. 

How  facred  the  whole  frame  of  the  world  is,  how  all 
things  are  to  be  ccnfidered  as  God's,  and  referred  to 
him,  is  fully  taught  by  our  biefled  Lord,  in  the  cafe 
of  oaths  :  ♦•  Eut  1  fay  unto  you,  fwear  not  at  all  ;  nei- 
thct  by  heaven,  for  it  is  God's  throne  ;  nor  by  the  earth, 
for  it  is  hisfootfiool  ;  neither  by  Jerufalcm,  for  it  isilic 
city  of  the  great  king,  neither  fludt  thou  fwear  by  thy 
head,  becaufethou  canftnot  make  one  hair  white  orblatk," 
Matt.  y.  37.  that  is,  becaufe  the  whitenefs  or  blacknefs 
of  thy  hair  is  not  thine,  but  God's. 

.  *  Here  you  fee  all  things  in  the  whoje  order  of  na- 
ture, fron)  the  highefl  heavens  to  the  fmallejl  hair,  arc 
to  be  ccnfidered,  not  feparately  as  they  are  in  them, 
felves,  but  as  in  fome  relation  to  Gcd.  And  if  this 
be  good  realbning,  then  (halt  not  fwear  by  the  earth, 
a  city,  or  thy  hair,  becaufe  thtfe  things  «ire  God's,  and 
in  a  certain  manner  belong  to  him  ;  is  it  not  the  fajiie 
reafoning  to  fay,  'J  hou  fhalt  not  niunnur  at  the  feafons 
ot  the  earth,  the  ftates  of  cities,  and  the  change  of  times, 
becaufe  all  thefe  things  are  in  the  bands  of  God,  have 
him  for  their  author,  are  direded  and  governed  by 
him  to  fuch  ends  as  are  mofl  fuitable  to  his  wife  pro- 
vidence ? 

*  For  whofo  murmurs  at  the  courfe  of  the  world, 
murmurs  at  Gpd  that  governs  the  courfe  of  the  world. 
Whofo  repines  at  feafons  and  weather,  and  fpeaketh  t.n- 
patiently  of  times  and  events,  repines  and  ipcttks  impa- 


(     204     ) 

tiently  of  God,  vrho  is  the  fole  Lord  and   Governor  of 
times,  feaions,  and  events. 

7.  *  As  therefore  when  we  think  of  God  hunfclf,  we 
•are  to  have  no  fcntiments  but  of  praile  and  thankfgiy- 
ing  ;  fo  when  we  look  at  thofe  things  which  are  under 
the  diredlion  of  God,  we  are  to  receive  them  with  the 
fame  tempers. 

*  And  though  we  are  not  to  think  all  things  right, 
and  jult,  and  lawful,  which  the  providence  of  God  per? 
mits  ;  for  then  nothing  could  be  unjuft,  becanfe  nothing 
i-s  without  his  pern'iifficn  ;  yet  we  muft  adore  God  in 
the  greateft  public  calamities,  the  mofl  grievous  perfe- 
cutions,  as  things  that  are  fuffered  by  God,  like  plagues 
and  famines,  for  ends  fuitable  to  his  wifdom  and  glory 
in  the  government  of  the  world. 

*  There  is  nothing  more  fuitable  to  the  piety  of  a 
reafonable  creature,  or  the  fpirit  of  a  Chriflian,  than 
thus  to  approve,  admire  and  glorify  God  in  all  the 
afts  of  his  general  providence  ;  confidering  the  whole 
woild  as  his  particular  family,  and  all  events  as  dirc<^- 
ed  by  his  wifdom. 

*  Every  one  feems  to  confent  to  this,  as  an  undenia- 
ble truth.  That  all  things  must  be  as  God  pleases  ;  and  is 
not  this  enough  to  make  every  man  pleafed  with  them 
himfelf  ?  And  how  can  a  man  be  a  pecvifh  coniplaincr 
of  any  thing  that  is  the  effcd\  of  providence,  but  by 
Ihewing  that  his  ovk'n  wijl  and  wifdom,  are  of  more 
weight  with  him,  than  the  will  and  wifdom  of  God? 
And  what  can  religion  be  faid  to  have  done  for  a  man, 
'whofe  heart  is  in  this  flate  ? 

For  if  he  cannot  thank  and  praife  God,  as  well  In 
calamities  and  fr,fFerings,  as  in  proi'perity  and  happinefs, 
he  is  as  far  from  the  piety  of  a  Chriflian,  as  he  that 
only*  loves  them  that  love  him,  is  from  the  charity  of 
a  Chriflian.  For  to  thank  God  only  for  fuch  things 
as  you  like,  is  no  more  a  proper  a£l  of  piety,  than  to 
bclie\e  onJy.  what  you  fte,  is  an  zdi  of  taith. 

8.  T  us  much  concerning  reOgnation  to  the  divine 
■will,  as  It  fignifies  a  thankful  approbation  of  God's 
ge.'.eral  providence  :  It  is  now  to  be  confidered,  as  it  lig- 
BJfies  a  thankful  acceptance  of  God's  particular  provi-. 
deuce  over  us. 


(     205     ) 

*  Every  rnaii  is  to  conlider  liimfelf  as  a  particular  ob- 
jeA  of  God's  providence  ;  undfir  the  iamc  care  and 
prote(flion  of  God,  as  if  the  world  had  been  niad-i  for 
bim  alone.  It  is  not  by  chance  that  any  maff '  is  ''oor,\ 
at  fuch  a  time,  of  fuch  parents,  and  in  fuch  place  r.nd 
condition.  It  is  as  certain,  that  every  Ton!  comes  into 
the  body  at  fuch  a  time,  and  in  fuch  circumftances,  by 
the  cxprefsdelignment  of  God,  according  to  fomc  purpo- 
fes  of  his  will,  and  for  fome  particular  ends  ;  this  is  as 
certain,  as  that  it  is  by  the  exprefs  dtfignment  of  Gcd, 
that  f()me  beings  are  angels,  and  others  are  men, 

9.  The  fcriptures  affure  us,  it  was  by  divine  ap- 
pointment, that  our  bleiTed  Saviour  was  born  at  Bethlc- 
liem,  and  at  fuch  a  time.  Now  although  it  was  owin^; 
to  the  dignity  of  his  perfon,  and  the  great  importanco 
of  his  birth,  that  thus  much  of  the  divine  counfel  v;as 
declared  to  the  world  concerning  the  time  and  man- 
ner of  it  ;  yet  we  are  as  fure  from  the  f^me  fcriptures, 
that  the  time  and  manner  of  every  man's  coming  into  the 
world,  is  according  to  the  direction  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence, and  in  pjcli  time,  and  place,  and  circumftances, 
as  are  diredled  and  governed  by  God,  for  particular  ends 
of  liis  wifdom  and  goodiiefs. 

This  we  are  as  certain  of  from  plain  revelation,  as 
wc  can  be  of  any  thing.  *  For  if  v/e  are  told,  that 
not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground  nut hout  our  heaven- 
ly Father  ;  can  any  thing  more  ftrongly  teach  us,  that  '• 
much  greater  beings,  fuch  as  human  fouls,  come  not 
into  the  world  without  the  care  and  airedlion  of  our 
heavenly  Father  ?  If  it  is  faid,  the  vsry  hairs  of  your 
head  are  all  numbered ;  is  it  not  to  teach  us,  that  no- 
thing, not  the  fmalleft  things  imaginablr*,  happen  to  us 
by  chance  ?  But  if  the  fmalleft  thing^s  we  cm  conceive, 
are  declared  to  be  under  the  divine  diredion,  need  we, 
or  can  we,  be  more  plainly  taught,  that  the  grea.ell 
things  of  lifv^,  fucli  as  the  manner  of  our  coming  into 
the  world,  our  parents,  the  tims,  andjother  circum.lan^es 
of  our  birth  and  coiidition,  are  all  according  to  the  ui- 
redion  and  appointment  of  Divmc  Providence  ? 

10.  When  the  difciples  put  this  qutltion  to  our  blef- 
f<d  Lord,  concerning  ihe  blind  m^n,  Mastery  ivho  did, 

S 


(     206     ) 

^/■»,  this  mati^  or  his  parents^  that  he  xvasborn  blind?  He 
inatle  this  anfwer,  Neither  hath  this  man  sinned^  nor  his 
parents  ;  but  that  the  works  of  God  should  be  made  fnani- , 
/est  in  him,  John  ix.  2,  3.  Plainly  declaring,  that  the 
particul^.r  circumftances  of  every  man's  birth,  the  bo- 
dy that  he  receives,  and  the  flate  of  life  into  which  he 
is  born,  are  appointed  by  a  fccret  providence,  which 
diredls  all  things  to  their  particular  times  and  feaions,  and 
manner  of  exigence,  that  the  wiidom  and  works  of  God 
may  be  made  manifeft  in  them  all. 

As  therefore  it  is  certain,  that  all  that  is  particular 
in  our  ttate,  is  the  elTedl  of  God's  particular  providence 
over  us,  and  intended  for  fome  particular  ends  both  of 
his  glory  and  our  own  happinefs,  we  are  by  the  ^reat- 
efl  obligations  called  upon  to  refign  our  will  to  the  v.ill 
of  God  in  all  thefe  rel'pedls  ;  thankfully  approving  and 
accepting  every  thing  that  is  particular  in  our  itate  ; 
praifing  and  glorifying  his  name  for  our  birth  of  fuch 
parents,  and  in  fuch  circumftances  ;  being  fully  altured, 
that  it  was  for  fome  reafons  of  infinite  wildom  andgood- 
nefs,  that  we  were  fo  born  into  fuch  particular  flates 
of  life. 

11.  If  the  man  above-mentioned,  was  born  blind, 
that  the  works  of  God  might  be  manifested  in  him,  had  he 
not  great  reafon  to  praiie  God,  for  appointing  him  in 
fuch  a  particular  munner,  to  be  the  inftrument  of  his 
•j-^ory  ?  And  if  one  pcrlbn  is  born  here,  and  another 
there  ;  if  one  falls  amongft  riches,  and  another  into 
poverty  ;  if  one  receives  his  flefh  and  blood  from  thefe 
parents,  and  another  irom  thofe,  for  as  particular  ends, 
as  tht  man  was  born  blind  ;  have  not  all  people  th« 
greateO:  reafon  to  blefs  God,  and  to  be  thiinkful  for 
their  particular  ftate  and  Gondition,  becaufe  all  that  is 
particular  in  it,  is  as  diredly  intended  for  the  glory  of 
God,  and  their  own  good,  as  the  particular  blmdncfs  of 
that  man,  who  wa?  fo  born,  that  the  works  of  God  might 
be   manifested  in  him  ? 

*  How  noble  an  idea  does  this  give  us  of  the  divine 
Omuifcience  preliding  over  the  whole  world,  and  go- 
verning fuch  a  long  chain  and  combination  of  fceuiriig 
accidents,  to  the  commow  and  particular  advantage  of 


(     207     ) 

all  beings?  So  that  all.perfons,  in  fuch  a  wondfrful  va- 
riety of  caufts  and  events,  fhould  t'iill  iiito  fuch  particular 
flates,  as  were  forefcen,  and  fore-ordained  to  their  bed 
advantag;e,  and  fo  as  to  be  mofl:  ferviccable  to  the  wife 
and  glorious  ends  of  God's  government  of  all  the  v/orld. 

12.  *  Had  you  been  any  thing  elie  th.in  what  you 
are,  you  had,  all  things  confidered,  been  leis  wU'cly 
provided  for  than  you  are  now  ;  yoy  had  wanted  fonie 
circumftances  that  are  bed  fitted  to  make  you  happy 
yourfelfj  and  ferviceable  to  the  glory  of  God. 

*  Could  you  fee  all  that  which  God  fees,  all  th?.t 
happy  chain  of  caufes  and  motives,  which  are  to  move 
and  invite  you  to  a  right  courfe  i-f  life,  you  would  fee 
fomething  to  make  you  like  that  (late  you  r*re  in,  as 
filter  for  you  than  any  other. 

*  But  as  you  cannot  fee  this,  fo  it  is  here  that  your 
truft  ill  God  is  to  exercife  itfelf,  and  render  you  as 
thankful  for  the  happinefs  of  your  date,  as  if  you  faw 
every  thing  that  contributes  to  it  with  your  own  eyes, 

*  But  now  if  thij  is  the  cafe  of  every  man  in  the 
world,  thus  bleffed  with  fome  particular  Hate  that  is 
mofl  convenient  for  him,  how  reafonable  is  it  for  every 
man,  to  will  that  which  God  has  already  willed  for 
liim  ;  and  by  a  truft  in  the  divine  goodnefs,  thankfully 
adore  tliat  wife  providence,  which  he  is.  fure  has  made 
the  bcrfl  choice  for  him  of  thofe  things,  which  he  could 
not  chule  for  himiclf. 

13.  Every  uneafinefs  at  our  own  (late,  is  founded  UDt^' 
on  comparing  it  with  that  of  other  peo.ple.  Which  is 
full  a5i  un reafonable,  as  if  a  mail  in  a  dropfy  fiiould  be 
angry  at  thofe' that  prefcribe  different  things  to  him, 
from  thoie  vvhich  art:  piefcribed  to  people  in  health, 
l^or  all  the  different  f^ates  of  life,  arc  like  the  different 
dates  of  difeafes,  and  what  is  a  remedy  to  one  maji  may 
be  poifon  to  another. 

*  So  that  to  murmur  becaufe  you  are  not  as  fopic 
others  are,  is  as  if  a  man  in  one  difeafc,  fhould  murmur 
that  he  is  not  treated  like  him  that  is  in  another. 
Whereas  if  he  was  to  have  his  will,  he  would  be  killed 
by  that,  v/hich  will  prove  the  cure  of  another, 

*  It  is  juft  thus  in  the    various  conditions  of  life  ;  if 


(     208     ) 

Ycu  covnplaui  at  any  thing  in  your  Ttate,  y.w  r.Yc^y^  for 
;iught  yrii  know,  be  fo  wnp-rateful  to  God,  as  to  mur- 
iinir  at  that  very  thing,  \vhich  is  to  prove  the  caufe  ct 
yc  ur  f.-ilvatioi"!. 

Had  you  It  in  your  power  to  get  that  Avhich  yon 
tliink  is  fo  grifVviis  to  warit,  it  ir/jght  perliaps  be  that 
very  tiling  V\hith  would  expcTe  you  to  ettrn;il  danma- 
tic.n. 

*  So  tliat,  whether  v.'c  ^onfjder  the  infinite  good* 
ncfv  (uGcd,  that  cannot  chufe  aniifs  for  ns,  or  our  own 
i;reat  igncrance  of  what  is  moft  advantageous  to  us, 
there  c?n  be  nothing  fo  veafonable,  as  to  have  no  vviil 
but  tiiat  of  God's,  ap.d  defire  nothing  for  ouifelves,  in 
rur  perfoas,  on ^- Rate,  and  condition,  but  that  which  the 
good  prcvidenc'e  of  God  appoints  ns. 

1  i.  *  FartheV,  as  the  good  providence  of  God  intro- 
duces i-3  into  the  world,  into  fuch  ibites  and  conditicna 
rs  arc  mofi  convenifcTit  for  us  ;  lo  the  fame  unerring  wif- 
dom  orders  all  events  and  changes  in  the  whole  courfe 
of  our  lives,  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  to  render  thein  the 
litteft  ineans  to  exerclfe  and  improve  our  virtue. 

Notliing  hurts  us,  nothing  deftroys  us,  but  th.e  ill  ufe 
of  that  liberty,  r/ith  which  God  has  entruUed  us. 

*  "We  are  as  fure  tha.t  nothing  happens  to  us  by 
chance,  as  that  the  world  itfelf  was  not  made  by  chance  ; 
^ve  are  as  certain  that  all  things  happen,  and  work  to- 
getlicr  for  cur  good,  as  that  God  is  gocdnefs  itftif. 
So  that  a  E:ian  bus  as.  much  rer.fcn  V)  will  every  thiii;*; 
that  hr.ppcjis  to  h.im,  becaufe  Gcd  wills  it,  a^.  to  think 
liutis  wife P:  which  is  directed  by  inf.-iite  wifdom. 

The  piovider.ce  cf  Gcd  is  not  n;ore  concerned  ifi 
the  governnunt  of  night  and  day,  and  the  variety  of 
feafons,  than  in  the  ccmincn  courfe  of  events,  tlist  fceni 
niofi  to  depend  upon  the  mere  wills  of  men.  So  that  it 
is  as  ftriiftly  right,  to  look  upon  all  worldiy  changes,  all 
the  various  turns  in  your  ovtn  life,  to  be  the  eifedls  of' 
divine  providence,  as  the  rifing  and  fetting  cf  the  fun, 
or  the  alterations  of  tlie  fsafons  of  the  year.  As  you 
are  therefore  aUvays  to  adore  the  wifdom  of  God  in  the 
direction  of  thefe  things  ;  fo  it  is  the  fame  reafonable 
duty,  always  to  magnify    God,  as  an  eq^uul  dir?dlor  cf 


(     209     ) 

fvery   tliin^-  tliat  happens  to  you  in  the  couiTe   of  your 
own  life. 

15.  There  is  nothing  that  fo  po-\\erfully  governs  the 
heart,  as  a  true  lenfe  of  God's  piefence  ;  and  nothing  fo 
conOantly  keeps  us  under  a  lively  I'enfe  of  the  prcfence 
of  God,  as  this  holy  refjgnation,  which  attributes  eve- 
ry thing  to  him,  and  receives  every  thing  as  from  him. 

Could  we  fee  a  miracle  from  God,  how  would  our 
thoughts  be  affected  witli  an  holy  awe  and  veneration  of 
his  prefence  !  But  if  we  confider  every  thing  as  God's 
doinp;,  either  by  order  or  permiiTion,  we  fliall  then  be 
afTedcd  with  common  things,  as  they  would  be  who  faw 
a  miracle. 

For  as  there  is  nothing  to  afTccl  you  in  a  miracle,  but 
as  it  is  tlie  a(nion  of  God,  and  befpeaks  his  prefence  ;  i'o 
■when  you  confider  God,  asading  in  all  things,  and  all 
events,  then  all  things  will  become  veneiable  to  ycu> 
like  miracles,  and  fill  you  with  the  fame  awful  fcnti- 
ments  of  thf;  divine  prefence. 

16.  Now  you  mufl  not  referve  the  exercife  of  this  pi- 
ous temper  to  any  particular  times  or  occafions,  or  fan- 
cy how  refigned  you  will  be  to  God,  if  fuch  or  fuch  tri- 
als fliculd  happen  :  for  this  is  amufing  yourfelf  wich  the 
notion  of  relignation,  inUead  of  the  virtue  itftlf. 

Dv^  not  therefore  pleafe  yourfelf  with  thinking,  how 
pioufly  you  would  a<Sl  and  fubmit  to  God  in  a  plague,  a 
f.uTiine,  or  perfeciition  ;  but  be  intent  upon  the  peifediou 
cf  the  prefent  day  ;  and  be  affured,  that  the  beft  way 
of  (hewing  a  true  zeal,  is  lo  make  little  things  the  occa- 
fions  of  great  piety. 

*  Begin  therefore  in  the  finallefl  matters,  and  mod 
ordinary  occai.ons,  and  accuilom  your  mind  to  the  daily 
exercife  of  this  pious  temper,  in  the  loweft  occurrences 
of  life.  And  when  a  contempt,  an  alTront,  a  little  injury, 
lofs,  or  difAppomtment,  or  the  fmil'.cn  events  of  every 
day  continually  raife  your  mind  to  God  in  propiM*  ails  i';f 
refignation,  then  you  may  juflly  hope,  that  yon  Ihail  be 
numbered  amongit  thofe  that  are  refirned,  and  thajik- 
ful  to  God  in  the  grcateft  trials  and.  affiKSliuiii. 


(     210     ) 

CHAP.     XIX. 

Of  the  excellency  and  greatness  of  a  devout  Spirit, 

1.  T  HAVE    now    finiriied    what    I   Intended    in  this 

J.  Treat! le.  I  have  explained  the  nntuie  of  devo- 
tion, both  as  it  fignifies  a  life  devoted  to  God,  and  as 
it  fignifies  a  regular  method  of  prayer.  I  have  now  on- 
ly to  add  a  word  or  two,  in  recommendation  .of  a  life 
governed  by  this  fpirit. 

And  becaufe  in  this  polite  age,  we  have  fo  lived  away 
the  fpiiit  of  devotion,  that  many  feem  afraid  even  to 
be  fufpecled  of  it,  imagining  great  devotion  to  be  great 
bigotry  ;  that  it  is  founded  in  ignorance  andpriornefa  of 
fpirit,  and  that  little,  weak,  and  dejeclcd  minds,  are 
generfilly  the  greateft  proficients  in  it. 

It  (hail  here  be  fhewn,  that  great  devotion  is  the  no- 
ble(\  temper  of  the  grcatefl  and  noblefl;  fouls  ;  and  that 
they  who  think  it  receives  any  advantaj^e  from  igno- 
rance, are  themfelves  entirely  ignorant  of  the  nature  of 
devotion,  the  nature  of  God,  and  the  nature  of  thern- 
lelves. 

People  of  fine  parts  and  learning,  or  of  great  know- 
ledge in  worldly  matters,  may  perhaps  think  it  hard  to 
have  their  want  of  devotion  charged  upon  their  igno- 
rance. Bat  if  they  will  be  content  to  be  tried  by  rea- 
fon  and  fcripturc,  it  may  foon  be  made  appear,  that  a 
want  of  devotion,  wherever  it  is,  either  amongft  the 
learned  or  unlearned,  is  founded  in  grofs  iguorynce, 
and  the  greateil  biindnefs  and  infenlibility  that  can  hap- 
pen to  a  I  itior.al  creature. 

And  th-At  dv;\  oiion  is  fo  far  from  being  the  tffcft  of  a 
little  and  ci(  jvCled  mind  that  it  niuic  and  will  be  always 
high."  11  i::  the  moil  perfe:t  natures, 

2.  And  firi^  who  )ecKons  it  a  fign  of  a  psor,  little 
mind,  f'-r  a  jnaii  to  be  xuil  of  revertncc  and  duty  to  his 
parents,  to  have  the  truef!:  love  and  hunour  for  his  friends, 
or  to  excel  in  the  highell  iniiaiites  of  gratitude  to  his 
benefaclor  ? 

Are  not  thefe  tempers  in  the  highell  degree,  in  the 
«joft  exalted  and  perfccl  namds  I 


(     211      ) 

And  yet  vliat  i:j  hi^^h  devotion,  but  tlie  lilj^heft  exer- 
tlfe  of  tilt Ic  tcn»ptrs  of  duty,  reverenrt*,  love,  honour, 
and  gratitude  to  the  amifible,  glorious  parent,  friend, 
7.nd  b(:nefa<^or  of  all  minkind  ? 

Is  it  a  true  greatnefs  of  mind,  to  reverence  the  ru- 
thority  of  your  parents,  to  fear  the  difplealure  of  your 
friend,  to  dread  the  reproaches  of  yx)ur  benefa(flor  ?  and 
jinift  not  this  fear,  and  dread,  and  revej-ence,  be  much 
more  juft,  and  reafonablc,  and  honourable,  when  they 
are  in  the  hi&hefl  degree  towards  God  ? 

So  that  se  long  as  duty  to  parents,  love  to  friends,  and 
g-r.ititude  to  brnefaclors,  are  thought  rreat  nnd  honour- 
able tempers;  devg^tion,  which  is  nothing  elfe  but  dn- 
ty,  love,  and  gratitude  to  God,  muR  have  the  highcll 
place  amongii^  our  hi^'heft  virtues. 

If  a  prince,  out  of  his  mere  goodnefs,  fhould  fend  you 
a  pardon  by  one  of  his  (laves,  would  you  think  it  a  pait 
of  your  duty  to  receive  the  flave  with  marks  of  love,  ef- 
teem,  and  gratitude  for  his  kindnefs,  in  bringing  you  fo 
great  a  gift ;  and  at  the  fame  time  think  it  a  meannefs 
and  poornefs  of  fpirit,  to  fiiew  love,  eficem  and  gratitude, 
to  the  prince,  who  of  Lis  own  goodnefs  freely  fent  you 
the  pardon  ? 

And  yet  this  would  be  as  rcafonable,  as  to  fuppofe, 
tbat  love.e'leem,  honour,  and  gratitude,  are  Hobh;  tem- 
pers, andinfiances  of  a  great  foul,  when  they  are  paid  to 
our  fellow-creatures  ;  but  the  ciTeftscf  a  poor,  ignorant 
niind,   u'hen  they  are  paid  to  God. 

3.  Even  that  part  of  dtivotion  which  exprelTes  itfclf 
in  forrowful  confrjfions,  and  the  penitential  tears  of  a 
broken  and  contrite  heart,  is  very  far  from  being  any 
fign  of  a  litclc  snd  ignorant  mind. 

For  who  does  not  acknowledge  it  an  inRance  of  an  in- 
genuous, grnerous,  and  brave  ndnd,  to  acknowledge  a 
fault,  a  :d  iiik  pardon  for  anv  oxFencc  :•  Aim  are  not  the 
fnefhand  moll  improved  minds,  the  rxao'i  remaikable  for 
this  excellent  temper  ? 

Is  i;  tu't  alio  allowed,  that  the  ingenuoulnefs  and. ex^ 
cellence  of  a  man's  fpirit  is  much  Ihcwn,  v»'hen  his  forrow 
and  indignation  at  himlelf  rifes  in  piopcrtlon  to  the  fol- 
ly of  hu  crime,  and  the  goodnefs  and  greatnefs  of  the 
pcrfon  he  has  otFendtd  I 


(     212     ) 

Kow  if  tblnc;:-:  are  thus,  then  the  greater  any  man's 
niit;(l  is,  the  n:ore  he  knows  of  God  and  himiclf,  the 
more  will  he  be  diipofed  to  proftrate  himfclf  before  God, 
in  all  thtr  huiMbleft  a(^s  and  ex -rc-fTions  of  repentance. 

And  ibe  greater  tlie  generolity  and  penetration  of  his 
mind  is,  the  more  will  he  indulge  a  paflionate,  tender 
fenfe  of  God's  juft  dlfpleafure  ;  and  the  more  he  knows 
of  the  gr.:ratnefs,  the  goodnefs,  and  perfe6\ion  of  the  di- 
vine nature,  the  fuller  of  fhamc  and  confulion  will  he  be 
at  his  own  fins  and  ingratitude. 

And  on  the  other  hand,  the  more  dull  and  ignorant 
any  foul  is,  the  morebale  and  ungenerous,  the  niorefenfe- 
Itrfs  it  is  of  the  goodnefs  of  God,  ^le  more  averfe  to 
humble  confclB'-vn  and  repentance. 

Devotion  therefore  is  lb  far  from  being  beft  fuited  to 
little,  ignorap.t  minds,  that  a  true  elevationof  foul,  a  live- 
1/ fenfe  of  honour,  and  great  knowledge  of  God  and  our- 
felves  arc  the  greatePt  helps  that  our  devotion  hath. 

4.  On  the  other  hind,  it  Ciill  be  made  appear  that 
indevotion  is  founded  in  the  moil  exceflive  ignorance. 

And,  Flrrt,  Our  blcfr.fd  Lord  and  his  apoftL-s  were 
f  minent  inftances  of  great  devotion.  Now  if  we  will 
grant,  (as  ali  Ghriflians  niuH:  grant)  that  their  great  de- 
votion was  founded  in  a  true  knowledge  of  the  nature 
©f  devotion,  the  nature  of  God,  and  the  nature  of  man  ; 
then  it  is  plain,  tliat  all  thofe  that  are  infenfible  of  devo- 
tion, are  in  this  exceilive  Hate  of  ignorance,  they  neither 
know  God,   nor  themfelves,  nor  devotion. 

Again  ;  how  comes  it  that  moft  people  have  recourfe 
to  devotion,  when  they  are  in  ilcknefs,  diRrefs,  or  fear 
of  death  ?  Is  it  not  becaufe  this  (late  fliews  them  more  of 
the  want  of  God,  and  their  own  weaknefs,  than  they 
peiccive  at  other  times  ?  Is  it  not  becaufe  their  approach- 
ing end  convir.ces  them  of  lomcthing,  which  they  did 
Dot  half  perceive  bjfore  ? 

Now  if  devotion  at  tliefe  feafons,  is  the  cfil-(ft  of  a 
better  knowledge  of  God  and  ourfelves,  thru  th.e  ne^ltcl 
of  devotion  at  other  times,  is  owing  to  ignorance  of 
God,  and  ourfelves. 

5.  Farther,  as  indevotion  is  ignorance,  fo  it  is  the 
mofl:  flunrefiil  ignorance,  and  fuch  as  is  to  be  charged 
with  the  greatcil  folly. 


(     213     ) 

'I'his  will  fully  appear  to  any  one  that  connders,  by 
■Vkliat  lules  Nve  are  to  judpe  of  tlie  excellency  of  any 
knowletlft-e,  or  the  flianiefulnel's  of  any  ignrrance. 

Now  knowledp;c  itrdf  would  be  no  excellence,  ncr 
igr.oiance  any  reproach  to  us,  but  that  we  ate  rational 
crentuies. 

It  fellows  pl?^ii.ly,  that  knowlEclge  which  Is  inofl 
fuitable  to  our  rarional  nature,  and  which  mcP,:  concerns 
us.  as  fuch,  to  hnow,  is  ourhighefl:,  fineO  krcwlcdge  ;" 
and  that  ignorance  which  relates  to  things  that  are  moll 
efiVntial  to  us,  as  rational  creatures,  and  which  vve  ar<r 
moR  concerntd  to  know,  is,  ofalluthtvs,  the  niod  ^rofs 
and  fliameful  igncrar.ce. 

6.  If  a  gentleman  fhoi.ld  fancy  thiit  the  moon  is  no 
bigger  than  it  appears  to  the  eye,  that  it  fiiinej  with  its 
own  light,  that  all  the  ftars  are  only  fo  many  fpots  of 
light  ;  if  after  reading  boi^ks  of  aftronoir.y,  he  Ihcuid  Rill 
continue  in  th.e  fame  opinion,  nioft  people  would  think 
lie  had  hut  a  poor  apprehenfion. 

But  if  the  fame  perfon  fiiould  think  it  better  to  pro- 
vide for  a  fljort  life  here,  than  to  prepare  for  a  glorious 
eternity  hereafter,  that  it  was  better  to  be  rich,  than  to 
be  eminent  in  piety,  his  ignorance  and  dulnefs  w-culd  be 
"loo  great  to  be  compared  to  any  tlr.ng  elfe. 

That  is  the  mcft  clear  and  improved  uiiderflandlng, 
wiiich  judges  beftofthe  value  and  worth  of  things-  All 
the  rtfl  is  but  the  capacity  of  an  animal,  it  h  but  mere 
feeing  and  hearing, 

if  a  man  had  eyes  that  could  fee  beyond  tlie  ftars,  or 
pierce  into  the  heart  of  the  earth,  but  could  not  fee  the 
things  that,  were  before  him,  or  dilVern  arv  t'hing  that- 
v^'as  fervlceable  to  liim,  we  fiiovaJ  reckon  t!:at  he  had 
but  a  very  bad  fight. 

If  another  had  ears  that  received  founds  froir  the 
world  \x)  the  moon,  but  could  hear  not"..ir.g  that  vt-s 
faid  or  done  upon  earth,  we  Ihould  iool:  u^^ci;  him  to  be 
£s  bad  as  deaf. 

In  like  manner,  if  a  man  has  a  memory  that  can  re- 
tain a  great  many  things  ;  if  he  has  a  wit  that  is  Iharp 
and  acute  in  arts  and  Icierces,  but  has  a  dull,  pcor  ap- 
prehenfion cf  his  duty  and  relation  to  God,  cfthc  value 


(    214     ) 

«»l  pittyi  or   the  worth    of  moral    virtue,    he  mny  very 
jufHy  be  reckoned  to  have  a  bad  unJerftanding.      He  is 
^^  but  like  the  man,  that  can  only  ice  and  hear  iuch  things 
HH  &re  of  no  benefit  to  him, 

7.  To  proe(?ed  ;  w^  know  how  our  bleffed  Lord  a£l- 
cd  in  a  human  body  ;  it  was  his  7neat  and  drink,  to  ds 
thf  %oill  of  his  Father  which  is  in  heaven. 

And  if  any  number  of  heavenly  fpirits  were  to  leave 
their  habitations  in  the  light  of  God,  and  be  for  a  whila 
\anited  to  hunim  bodies,  they  would  certainly  tend  to- 
•wards  God  in  all  their  actions,  and  be  aa  heavenly  as 
they  cpuldj  i.Ji  3.  i\iXz  of  Ht-flj  and  blood. 

They  would  certainly  adt  in  this  manner,  becaufe 
thty  would  know  that  God  was  the  only  good  of  all  fpi- 
rits ;  and  that  whether  they  were  in  the  body>  or  out 
qf  the  l)ody,  in  heaven,  or  on  earth,  they  muft  have 
qveiy  degree  of  thi:ir  greatncfs  and  happinefs  from  Ggd 

All  human  fpirits  therefore,  the  more  exalted  they 
Srs,  the  more  thty  know  their  divine  original,  thentar- 
Qr  they  gome  to  heavenly  fpirits,  the  more  will  tluy  live 
to  God  in  all  their  ^(Ttlons,  nuking  their  whol^  life  a 
ftrce  of  d.tvotion. 

Devotion  therefore,  is  tliegreateA  fign  of  a  great  and 

nobie    genius,  it  fuppofes  a  foul  in    its  highelt    Hate  of 

^Hnqwledge  ;   and  none  hut  little  and  blinded  minds,  that 

are  fynk  'v.\Xo  ignorance  and  vanity,  are  deflitute   of  it, 

8.  If  a  human  fpirir,  Ihouid  imagine  fome  mighty  prince 
to  be  greater  than  God,  we  fhould  take  it  for  a  poor, 
ignorant  creature,  all  people  would  acknowledge  fuch, 
an  imagination  to  be  the  height  of  Rupidity. 

But  if  this  \?A^t  humnn  ipivit,  ^oulcl  think  it  better  to 
be  devoted  to  feme  mighty  prince,  than  to  be  devoted  to 
God,  would  not;  this  iiiil  be  a  gvsater  pioof  of  a  poor, 
ign<irant,   and  blinded  nature  '( 

Yet  this  i§  w^nx  vA\  people  do,  who  think  any  thing 
better,  greater,  or  vviicr,  than  a  devout  life. 

So  that  which  w,iy  fo^ver  we  conhder  this  matter, 
it  plainly  appears,  that  devotion  is  an  inOance  of  great 
judgment,  of  ?.n  elevated  nature  j  and  the  want  ofdevo- 
tioii  w  a  certain  proaf  ci  ths;  v/a;U  pf  uudv,*riliu\ding. 


(     215     )  • 

The  g-r^ateft  fplrits  of  the  heathen  world,  fuch  as 
Pythiigoias,  Socrates,  Phito,  Epl(f\(  tiis.  Marcus  Anto* 
fiiiis.   owed  all  tl  f\r  preatiu  fs  tr.  the  fpirit  cf  dtvotioii. 

They  were  full  of  G(  d  ;  tlt-lr  vifriohi  and  c\ttv  con* 
teriiflHtioiis  tended  crJy  to  dciivf r  n  en  frotn  the  \ai>lty 
of  the  woild,  the  flaveiy  of  b.^dily  palTicns^  that  they 
might  ail  as  fpirits  that  came  froiij  God,  and  wtrefocn 
to  return  to  him. 

9.  Let  libertines  but  grant  that  there  is  a  God,  and  a 
providence,  and  then  they  have  granted  enough  to  juf* 
tify  the  wifdoni,  and  fu]>port  the  honour  of  devotion* 

For  if  there  is  an  infinitely  \vife  and  good  Creator^ 
in  tvhom  we  live,  move,  and  have  our  being,  whole 
providence  govtrns  all  things  in  all  plscf-s,  fiardy  it 
mui\  be  the  hlghtit  ad  of  our  underitanding  to  conc.lvc 
rightly  of  him  ;  it  i>.uft  be  the  noblefi  inHance  of  indg- 
n^eirt,  the  mt^fl:  exalted  temper  of  our  nature,  to  v.or- 
fhip  and  adore  this  univerlal  pi  evidence,  to  ccnfc  rm  to 
its  laws^  t(;  ftudy  its  wildom,  and  to  live  and  aft  e\cry 
"ivhcre,  as  in  the  prefence  of  this  infinitely  good  aiid 
wife  Creator. 

Now'he  that  lives  thus,  lives  in  the  fpirit  of  devrticn. 

And  what  can  0>ew  fuch  great  parts,  and  fo  fine  an 
undfrlU.diVig.   as  to  live   in  this  temper? 

For  if  God   is  wifdom,  furtly   he  muft  be  the  wifefl  ,^' 
man  in  the  world,   vi  ho  mfifi  conforms  to  the  wifdom  of  •^• 
God,   who  br:fl  obeys  his  providence,  v  ho  enters  fartheft 
into  h.s   dcfigiis,   and  dots  all    hr  can,  that    God's  will 
maybe  done  on  earth,   as  it  is  done  in  heaven. 

iO.  A  devout  man  Uiakcs  a  true  ufe  of  his  reafon  j 
he  fees  through  the  vanity  of  the  workl,  difcovtrs  the 
corruption  of  his  nature,  and  the  blaidncfs  of  his  pafTions. 
He  lives  by  a  luw  wuich  is  nCl  vifible  to  vulgar  eyes  ; 
ht  enteis  rnto  the  workl  of  fpirits  ;  he  compares  th« 
gceateit  things,  fets  eternity  agamft  time  ;  and  chutes  ra- 
tlicr  to  be  for  ever  great  in  the  prefence  of  God  wliea 
he  dies,  than  to  have  thegreateft  Ihare  of  worldly  pica- 
fures  whilfl  he  lives. 

\  I.  Laltly,  courage  and  bravery  are^words  of  a  great 
found,  and  feem  to  lignify  an  hemic  fpirit  ;  but  yet  hu- 
mility, which  fceais  to  be  the  lowed,  meaneft  pnrt  of 
devotion,  is  a  more  certain  argument  of  a  noble  niiud. 


(     213     ) 

For  Iiumllity  contenus  with  greater  eneraies,  is  move 
conflainl/  engaged,  more  violc^ntly  aliaulted,  fufFcrs 
more  and  requires  greater  courage  to  fupport  itfelf,  than 
any  inliances  of  worldly  bravery, 

A  man  tha.t  dares  be  poor  and  contemptible  in  the 
fyes  of  the  world,  to  approve  himlelf  to  God  ;  that 
retifts  and  rcjeas  all  human  glory,  that  oppofes  the  cla- 
mour of  his  paflions,  that  meekly  puts  up  all  iniuries, 
and  dares  Hay  for  his  reward  till  the  invifible  hand  of 
God  gives  to  every  one  t-heir  proper  places,  endures  a 
much  greater  trial,  and  exerts  a  nobler  fortitude,  than 
he  that  is  bcid  and  daring  in  the  fire  of  battle. 

For  the  boldnefs  of  a  foldier,  if  he  is  a  Ibanger  to 
the  fpirit  of  devotion,  is  rather  weaknels  than  fortitude  ; 
it  is  at  beft  but  mad  paiFion,  and  heated  fpirits,  and  has 
no  more  true  value  in  it  than  the  fury  of  a  tyger. 

Realbn  is  our  univerfal  law,  that  obliges  us  in  all 
places  and  all  times  ;  and  no  adlions  have  any  honour, 
but  fo  far  as  they  are  inftances  of  our  obedience  to  reafon. 
And  it  is  as  bafe  to  be  bold  and  daiing  againfl  the 
principle  of  reafon  and  juflice,  as  to  be  bold  and  daring 
in  lying  and  perjury. 

Would  we  therefore  exerclfe  a  true  fortitude,  we  mud 
do  all  in  the  fpirit  of  devotion,  be  valiant  againfV  the 
corruptions  of  the  world,  and  the  lulls  of  the  flc(h,  and 
the  temptations  of  the  c'evil  :  for  to  be  darnig  and  cou- 
rageous againft  thcfe  enemies,  is  the  noble -t  bravery 
that  an  human  mind  is  capable  of. 

I  have  made  this  digrelfion,  for  the  fake  of  thofe, 
who  think  great  devotion  to  be  bigotry  and  poornefs  of 
fpirit  ;  that  by  thefe  conliderations  they  may  fee,  how 
poor  and  mean  all  other  tempers  are,  if  compared  to  it  ; 
that  they  may  fee  all  worldly  attaintments,  whether  of 
greatnels,  wifdom,  or  bravery,  are  but  empty  founds  ; 
and  there  is  nothing  wife,  or  great  or  noble  m  an  human 
fpirit,  but  rightly  to  know,  and  heartily  worllnp  and 
adore  the  great  (^od,  that  is  the  fupport  and  life  of  all 
fpnits,  v/hether  in  heaven  or  on  earth. 


THE    END. 


CONTENTS 


Cha  ^^^^* 

I.'^^ONCILRNING  the   nature   and  extent  of 

V>4   Chriftian  devotion. 
II.  An  enquiry  into  tlie  real'on   why  the  generality 
of  ChriUians  fall  fo  Oiort  of  the  holinefs  and  devo- 


16 


36 


49 


tio-.i  of  chriftianity  . 

III.  Of  the  great  dinger  and  folly  of  not  intend- 
ing to  be  as  eminent  as  we  can,  in  the  pradice  ot 
all  Chriftian  virtues 

IV.  We  can  pleafe  God  in  no  ftate  or  employment 
of  life,  but  by  intending  and  devoting  it  all  to  his 

V.^Sons  that  are  free  from  the  neceffity  of  labour 
and  employments,  are  to  confidcr  themfelves  as 
devoted  to  God  in  a  higher  degree 

VI.  How  the  imprudent  ufe  of  an  cftatc  corrupts  ail 
the  temper  s,  and  fills  the  heart  with  poor  and  ridicu- 
lous pafllons  :  rc-pvcientedinthecharaaerofFlavia 

VII.  How  the  wife  and  pious  ufe  of  an  eftate  carri- 
eth  us  to  all  the  virtues  of  the  Chriftian  life  ;  repre- 
fented  in  the  charafter  of  Miranda  55 

Via.  Shewing  that  all  orders  of  men  and  women,  of 
all  ages  are  obliged  to  devote  themfelves  to  God     66 

IX.  Shewing  how  great  devotion  fills  our  lives  with 
the  greateft  peace  and  happinefs  that  can  be  en- 
ioved  in  this  world 

X.  Tne  happinefs  of  a  life  wholly  devoted  unto  God, 
farther  proved,  from  the  vanity,  and  the  ridicu- 
lous, poor  enjoyments  which  they  are  forced  to 
take  up  with,  who  live  according  to  their  own 
humours.   This  reprefented  in  various  charadlers 

XI.  That  not  only  a  life  of  vanity,  or  fenfuahty,  but 
even  the  moft  regular  kind  of  life,  that  is  net  go- 

•  verncd  by  great  devotion,  fufficiently  ftiews  its  mii- 
cries,  its  wants,  andemptlnefstothe  eyesof  allthe 
world.  This  reprefented  in  various  charaders  103 

T 


80 


92 


CONTENTS. 

Chap.  >  Page. 

XII.  Concerning  that  part  of  devotion  which  relates 
to  times  and  hours  of  prayer.  Of  daily  early  pray- 
er in  the  morning.  How  we  may  improve  our  forms 

of  prayer,  and  increafe  the  fpirit  of  devotion  114 

XIII.  Recommendingdevotion  at  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  called  in  I'cripturethe  third  hour  of  the 
day.  The  fubjeft  of  thsi'e  prayers  may  be  humility    132 

XIV.  Shewing  how  the  education  which  men  gen- 
erally receive,  makes  the  doctrines  of  humility 
difficult  to  be  praftifed.  The  fpirit  of  a  better  ed- 
ucation reprefented  in  the  character  of  Paternus    145 

XV.  Shewing  how  the  method  of  educating  daugh- 
ters, makes  it  difficult  for  them  to  enter  into  the 
fpirit  of  Chriflian  humility.  How  miferably  they 
are  injured  and  abufed  by  luch  an  education.  The 
fpirit  of  a  better  education,  reprefented  in  the 
charadler  of  Eufebia.  15t 

XVI.  Recommendingdevotion  at  twelve  o'clock  cal- 
led itj  fcripture  the  fixth  hour  of  the  day.  This 
frequency  of  devotion  equally  defirable  by  all  or- 
ders of  people.  Univerfal  love  is  here  recommen- 
ded to  be  the  fubjeft  of  prayer  at  this  hour.  Of  in- 
terceffion,  as  an  a<ft  of  univerfal  love  172 

XVII.  Of  the  neceffiiy  and  benefit  of  interceffion, 
confidered  as  an  exercife  of  univerfal  love.  How 
ail  orders  of  men  are  to  intercede  v/ith  God  for  one 
another.  How  fuch  interceffion  amends  and  re- 
forms the  heart  18§ 

XVIII.  Recommending  devotion  at  three  o'clock, 
called  in  fcripture  the  ninth  hour  of  the  day.  The 
fubjcct  of  prayer  at  this  hour  may  be  refignation 
to  the  divine  pleafure.  The' nature  and  duty  of 
conformity  to  the  will  of  God  in  all  our  actions 
and  defigiis  199 

XIX.  Of  the  excellency  and  greatnefs  of  a  devout 
fpiik  2  50 


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